Seascapes Read online

  And it was the sins of others, not her own, that caused her so much distress. She would never forgive what her mother and father had done to her as a child. They didn’t deserve forgiveness. She had been too young to do anything to make things different, to make them better. She couldn’t make things right. She couldn’t have protected her little sister, and no one could bring Lori back.

  She was not going to let her past continue to dictate her life. She just wanted to forget it. Just forget all of it. She certainly couldn’t change it. How could she? Her mother was dead. Her father was gone.

  So, where had the necklace come from? It seemed like all she had been doing for the past few days was think about her past and that necklace. She was just so tired of it all.

  Reaching up, she rubbed her forehead. She wanted the past to stay buried, like it had been. She felt like her head would explode. Even now, she could feel the veins in her temples pounding. She switched to using both hands to try to rub away the growing pain.

  When she had left to go to college, she had cut all ties. The pain she had endured as a child had become unbearable. When she had been forced to leave her foster family and go back to her father, she’d stopped going to therapy as well. While the counseling she had received as a child had helped, she’d still struggled with nightmares.

  She had started back to regular therapy sessions when she was in college. Her nightmares made it impossible for her to share a room, so the school had insisted she figure it out since they were footing her bill. It was almost a month of sessions before she would even open up to the therapist about what had happened to her.

  Even then, Kate had only been interested in learning how to keep it in the past rather than “processing through it” to find “healing” as the therapist had suggested. How was she supposed to “heal” from the fact that neither of her parents had loved her? That her own mother had harmed her? That her father had all but abandoned her?

  Sitting in the pew, she continued rubbing her temples. Kate thought back to one therapy session. She had been seeing the counselor on campus for about four months.

  She had finally given the therapist permission to get copies of all her old medical records. There were volumes of them sitting on her desk when Kate had arrived for their session. It was obvious Ms. Williams had been spending quite a bit of time with them. Bright pink sticky notes bristled like porcupine quills poking out in all directions from the stack.

  “Kate,” Ms. Williams had begun in her somewhat nasally tone, “let’s start today by discussing your relationship with your father.”

  “Why? I haven’t been having nightmares about him. I’m having nightmares about losing my sister. A sister I have so few memories of.” Kate always found these sessions somewhat annoying. If the school weren’t forcing her to attend and if she didn’t need the scholarship money to continue, she would have stopped after the first session.

  “Well, research has shown the degree of stress a child feels as an adult can relate back to how they were treated by their parents, in their formative years.”

  With biting sarcasm, Kate had shot back, “Let’s see then. My mother used me to fuel her sick addiction for attention. She killed my sister before anyone could figure out what she was doing to us. She made me so ill I almost died, twice. No one knew what she was capable of, until it was too late. We were too small to defend ourselves, and no one else stepped up to help.”

  Kate had continued as she felt her heart rate rise along with her anger over the futility of it all. “And my father was either out drinking, gambling, or both. He certainly wasn’t home to protect my sister or me. So, if you think the stress I felt as a child might be causing my nightmares, I agree wholeheartedly! I just need a way to deal with it! I need to finish my degree and I need the scholarship money to do it!”

  Ms. Williams had always talked in a quiet voice. Kate had begun to hate that voice. It was always so composed when she had felt anything but calm. “Have you ever thought about letting go of what your parents did instead of holding on to it so tightly?”

  Kate had been too shocked to reply for a moment. She was not holding on to it. It was holding on to her. She had felt the blood pulsing through her body, and she had begun to shake with rage. “I’m not holding on to it! Are you as crazy as my mother? My mother killed my sister! She starved her to death. She was only two years old. A baby! She injected so many poisons in my body that I don’t even know if I’ll ever have my own children. You must know that little fact from reading my medical records!”

  Kate breathed deeply and continued to focus on the window. The shepherd had a knowing and gentle smile, like he had a secret. Maybe Fiona was right. Maybe it was time to bring all these memories up and deal with them. Ignoring them all these years hadn’t done anything. The moment the past showed up, she found herself right back in the thick of it. Panic attacks hovering, just waiting to hit.

  She forced herself to remember the rest of what she had spewed at Ms. Williams that day. “As for my father, he didn’t protect me when I was young. Then he showed up out of the blue and ripped me away from the only family who ever truly cared for me.”

  She took a moment to try to gain some control, but it was no use. She was raging mad and continued to rant at her therapist.

  “Once he had accomplished that, he abandoned me again, but this time, I had no one to help me. He would show up every few weeks and pay some bills and the rent, if I was lucky. I was left to raise myself in a place that wasn’t safe for young girls.”

  Kate had sat shaking. How dare this woman, this person who had absolutely no idea what Kate’s childhood had been like, even suggest such a thing. Kate hadn’t held on to any of it, but the grip the past had on her refused to loosen its hold.

  “Kate, I’m not condoning what your parents did to you. I’m talking about letting it go. I’m talking about not letting what they did continue to dictate your actions. Think about possibly forgiving them. It’s about taking all the negative energy you are using to continue being mad at your parents and just letting it go.”

  Kate pulled in another shuddering breath. And then another. She focused again on the shepherd’s smile. It helped as she began to force herself to relax bit by bit. If only it had been as easy as Ms. Williams made it seem that day. Just let it go.

  Kate hadn’t been able to do it. Her counselor had helped her figure out ways to deal with her stress and anxiety though. One method was spending time outside in nature, which is one reason she settled on living near the ocean. She didn’t mind the cold Maine winters and there were very few days she couldn’t get out at least once a day no matter the weather. A few layers were usually enough to make it comfortable.

  Gathering up her purse and jacket, Kate rose. She needed to get back to the store and finish up the invoicing and orders. More importantly, she needed to apologize to Fiona for the way she had stormed out.

  “Thank you for coming. Feel free to come back whenever you need a moment to gather your thoughts. The church is open every day.” The voice floated towards Kate from the front of the church.

  Kate stopped and looked back to see Pastor Peter was standing near the door he had disappeared through earlier. She wondered where the blonde man had disappeared to. There had been something intriguing about him, but she shook off the thought. She did not need any other complications in her life right now.

  “Thank you. I may just be back. I like this church. It reminds me of the one I attended when I was little.” Kate hadn’t realized it until she said it, but it was true. It wasn’t just being in a church that had felt familiar, but this church was laid out in a similar way to the one she had attended with her foster family. It had felt comforting the moment she had stepped through the front doors. It had been such a long time since she had felt any level of safety and security.

  “It’s a great place to sit and think for a spell.” He gave her a bright grin.

  “Thanks,” Kate said again then turned and headed to the doors
. She glanced back to wave goodbye and saw the pastor had been joined by the blonde giant. They both smiled and waved as she left.

  Walking slowly back to the store, she began to formulate an apology to Fiona in her head. Thoughts of the men at the church kept invading though. If Peter was the pastor, who was the other guy and why was he there?

  Chapter 8

  “Who was that?” Drew couldn’t stop looking at the door through which the woman had just walked out. He didn’t remember ever seeing her around town. It wasn’t like Haven was big enough that locals didn’t run into each other on occasion. He would have remembered running into this local.

  “You know, that’s funny. I never asked her name.” Peter shrugged as he headed back to his office. “Why?”

  “No reason.” There was no way Drew was going to tell his brother why he wanted to know more. There was something captivating about her face. Something that made him want to get to know her more.

  “Oh really,” Peter drawled out as he nudged Drew in the side with an elbow. “No reason at all?”

  “Fine. Whatever. How did your meeting with Mrs. Johnson go?” Two could play this game.

  “How much did you hear?”

  “Just that she doesn’t want any of that new-fangled worship music or instruments playing. How are you going to break it to the worship bands we’re out of a Sunday morning gig?”

  “First, don’t refer to it as a gig. It’s worship. There’s a difference. And second, start learning some hymns.”

  “Seriously? Look, I like hymns as much as the next guy.” Peter snorted. “I do! But every Sunday? What about some more modern ones at least? Keith and Kristyn Getty have some that we could probably handle.”

  “I’m pretty sure Mrs. Johnson’s metric for what makes an appropriate hymn is one that is at least a hundred years old.”

  Drew groaned. He wasn’t sure he would be able to convince his worship team to play them. Maybe if they did a new arrangement. That might work.

  “And no new arrangements. Play it like Gram used to when we sang them around the piano growing up.”

  “Come on. You’re killing me here.”

  “Don’t make me lecture you on what worship means. Again. Just do this for me. You don’t have to do all hymns. I never promised that. But you need to do at least two. That was the compromise we came up with. One has to be before the sermon, and you have to end the service with one.”

  Drew pulled a face at his brother. “What about the band? I can play keys if I have to, but Ashley does way better. What about the other instruments?”

  “I never agreed to leave them out. She might have thought I did, but I didn’t.”

  “A little sin of omission then?” Drew laughed at his brother. “And you’re the pastor! Set an example will ya’.”

  Peter flushed slightly. “Let me worry about it.”

  “Fine. I think it’s a mistake though. If you want to grow this church, you need to branch out some. There are some great songs out there. You know like something by Chris Tomlin or Casting Crowns.”

  Peter slapped a hand on his brother’s back. “I certainly do, but Mrs. Johnson and other members do not. So, for the time being we will work on slowly introducing them to other styles of worship music. I’m not going to let this be a stumbling block right now. There will be time to take it on later.”

  “Great. Now I need to revamp the set list for this week. Can we at least do ‘In Christ Alone?’ Most people don’t even realize how new that one is. I think we can sneak it past Mrs. Johnson.”

  Drew stopped and clasped both hands under his chin. He gave his brother his puppy dog eyes. It had worked when they were kids sometimes. Maybe it would work now.

  Peter laughed. “Forget it. Give it a couple of weeks and try then. For now, do some of the traditional hymns. Nate will just have to sit out on those for now. I’m sure a drum set does not meld with what Mrs. Johnson has in mind for hymns.”

  “Well, you can’t say I didn’t try. I’m going to head home and grab a shower. I’ll be back in a little while to start on that list you have for me. Want me to bring anything back?”

  “Naw, I’m good. See you in a bit.”

  The men parted ways at the back door. Drew bounded down the steps to the street and immediately began to revamp the playlist for Sunday in his mind. He’d need to get it out to the team today so they could be ready for rehearsal.

  His mind drifted back to the woman who had come into the church earlier. He had noticed her the moment she’d walked through the door. She had seemed so frantic until she had stopped to see the windows.

  Those windows were amazing. It was one of the things he loved most about the church. He wondered what had upset her. He wanted to go fix it. Then again, he always wanted to fix the broken ones. Maybe it was because he had once been a broken one himself until the Grants had taken him in.

  What was it about today that had him thinking so much about the past? He never dwelt on it this much normally. Nothing could fix the fact that his parents had died, and he had become a ward of the state. His parents had been only children. They had been older when they’d had him, so all his grandparents were either dead or too old to care for him. There had been no one to take him in.

  He began to pray. Maybe he just needed to talk with God. That always seemed to help when he was feeling troubled. It was one thing the Grants had taught him right away.

  Ken and Jill had sat him down the night he had arrived to lay down the rules of the house. He had been his typical belligerent self only half listening. Most houses had the same rules anyway. Be respectful. No hitting. No yelling. Be kind. Yada, yada, yada.

  Ken had got attention when he had told him the last rule. “And this is the most important rule in this house. Pray whenever you are mad. Ask God to help you calm down and see the real reason for the emotion you’re feeling.”

  Drew’s mouth had dropped open. He had always tried to hide what he was feeling, but this rule had thrown him for a loop even he couldn’t hide. What kind of house was this anyway? Pray when he was mad? It was a rule he had to follow? Yeah, right, he had thought. No chance.

  But he had. He still wasn’t sure what had made him do it. After his parents death, he had made a promise to never believe in God again. Certainly not believe in a God that would take a ten-year-old boy’s parents away from him.

  It was that small thing which had helped change everything though. He had begun to pray. Tentatively at first. And it was hard to pray when you were mad. It seemed like he spent much of his waking hours praying. Then slowly he realized he was less and less angry, but it had become such a habit he continued to pray when he was feeling other things as well.

  Jill and Ken had saved his life with that weird rule of theirs. One that had not only changed his entire outlook on life, but one that had made him a Grant and brought him back into a family. A family he never thought he would ever have again.

  Maybe it was a good thing to remember the past, he thought as he continued ambling towards his house. Remembering helped him be thankful for what he had instead of dwelling on what he didn’t.

  Chapter 9

  A few days later Kate found herself once more at the stone church down the street. Pushing open the door, the familiar comfort reached out to greet her.

  Fiona had forgiven Kate for her outburst. She had also kept her word and stopped pushing Kate to figure out the how and why of the necklace.

  Unfortunately, the nightmares were still coming, and Kate felt herself unraveling a bit more each day. She hoped spending some time at the church would help her find the calmness she was craving.

  Moving down the left side again, she picked a different window to sit next to. The plaque beneath it read “Wise and Foolish Builders.” The window had four panes. One near the top showed a man laboring to build a house on what appeared to be a sand dune. The pane beside it showed a storm-tossed sky with dark clouds, rain pouring down, and the house leveled. Below were two more panes. One aga
in showed a man laboring to build a home, but this time it was on solid ground, high above the beach and set back. The second pane showed a similar storm-tossed sky, but this time the house stood.

  “Back again?”

  Kate looked behind her to see the same tall blonde haired man sitting there. For such a large man, he certainly moved quietly.

  “I hope you don’t mind. I find it peaceful here, and I need more peace in my life these days.”

  “I understand. So, you like our windows?”

  Kate looked again at the one she had just been studying. “They’re beautiful.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around town. Are you new here?”

  Kate gave a short laugh. “Not really. I’ve lived here for two years now. You?”

  “No, I’ve lived here for a while as well, and I used to come here for vacation in the summer when I was a teenager.”

  Kate glanced over her shoulder at where he was still sitting. His hair was windblown and messy. He was dressed again in shorts, a sweatshirt, and sneakers holding a cup of coffee from the Three Cats Café.

  She didn’t really want to do small talk. She turned back to the window, just wanting to be alone with her thoughts. He was starting to become a distraction, a cute one, but still a distraction.

  “What do you do for work?” Really, had he just asked her that? He wasn’t taking her subtle hints at all.

  “I own Seascapes down on the boardwalk.”

  “Sea what?

  She turned at this. Seascapes was the heart and soul of her life. He’d better not be making fun of the name. She had worked hard on coming up with it.

  She spoke slowly. “Seascapes. It’s a little shop that sells sea glass jewelry, driftwood art, prints, pottery, and other things made by local artisans.” She turned back to the window. That should do the trick.

  “Huh, never heard of it.”