"They had docked at the Pagoda Anchorage in Foochow, which meant traversing the Min river. It was a narrow gorge with a fast current and high walls just barely passable for a ship with as much in the way of spars and rigging as the Anne had.
"At one point, a monkey got tangled with the tackle on one of the sails and had to be rescued. It was injured, so they took it below to be patched up, and the monkey became a sort of a pet. It stayed with them the rest of the voyage.
"Eventually, they made it through the tight gorge and out into open seas again. Two weeks into their journey, though, they ran into a typhoon. The ship nearly capsized in the fearsome winds. The sails hadn’t been taken in properly, you see, and the ship was tipped to one side by the gusting wind.
"Captain Jeremiah used to tell his children that what scared him in that storm wasn’t the steep angle of the deck, or the fierceness of the storm: it was the noises the ship made. All those timbers flexing and straining, groaning under its own weight at that unnatural angle.
"The crew hurried around, furling sails and doing everything the captain could think of to keep the ship from going over. He tried and tried, but nothing availed. He cried out to God, desperately asking for His mercy, while clinging to the ship with all his might.
"Suddenly, the storm moved off, and the ship righted. The sailors looked at each other, wide eyed, hearts beating, gasping for breath. They learned later on that another ship had been lost in that storm. Some said it was luck, some said it was just that the storm spent itself out, but Captain Jeremiah, he knew why the Anne had survived.”
“Did God make the storm stop?” Tommy asked, head propped on his hands atop his makeshift table.
“I believe He did, Tommy, my boy.”
Tommy's eyebrows scrunched together. “Does God always make the storms stop?”
“Not always, my boy. But He is so wise and so good and so powerful, He knows just when a storm needs to be stopped, and when it needs to blow itself out.”
Tommy laid his head on his arms and stared into the fire, deep in thought. After a moment, his head popped up again. “Did God stop storms when you were at sea?”
A faraway, awe-filled expression came into Captain Braddock’s eyes as he looked down at the little boy. “Yes, He did at that. The very worst one I encountered, in fact.” A car horn honked outside, and Captain Braddock sat back. “But that’ll have to be a story for another day, because yer mother’s here, and we musn’t keep her waiting. Go and fetch yer jacket.”
“Yes, Sir.” Tommy’s voice held a note of disappointment as he rose to his feet. Thrusting his arms into his jacket, he gave them a wave and a brief grin before tumbling out into the cold and wind between the shop and his mother’s waiting car.
Katherine quietly rose and began gathering the tea things. As she walked into the little kitchen, she heard Captain Braddock’s voice. “Now then, young Miss Sally. I see you’ve got a different sort of cheerfulness about you today. What might that be for?”
“Well,” Sally began. “I suppose it’s because I’ve finally found rest for my soul, like Katherine. I—" She paused, then with a tone of joyful confidence, said quietly, “I’m forgiven.”
“Ah.”
Katherine returned to the room in time to see Captain Braddock’s warm smile.
“Welcome to the Old Paths, my girl.”
13 An Eventful New Year
The days and weeks flew by in all the flurried rush of November and December, and almost before she knew it, Katherine awoke to the cold grey drizzle of a new year. Thinking over the past two months, Katherine wondered how it had all gone by so fast.
There had been the now yearly Guy Fawkes Day gathering, as well as the Thanksgiving dinner Mrs. James always hosted at the tea shop for anyone who didn’t have family to celebrate with.
Katherine smiled and closed her eyes, reliving the cozy family-style meal. They had moved all the small tearoom tables together to make one long banquet table, and filled the counter with turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, cranberry sauce, and all sorts of good things. Then even more food was brought in by the people who came in from across Harborhaven and the next two towns to enjoy Thanksgiving dinner together.
Sally had thrown herself into the preparations with energy. It was her first Thanksgiving, but she seemed determined that everything would be just right. She and Katherine whisked the dishes away to the kitchen as soon as everyone was finished, and spent the remainder of the evening chatting and laughing like old friends as they cleaned.
Then Katherine spent Christmas with her parents at their small house in the big city suburbs, relishing the joy of their newfound closeness after years of emotional distance. God had given her so many new beginnings in the past year, and reconciliation with her parents was one of the most significant.
Now, Katherine looked in the mirror by the front door of her apartment, twisting her long brown curls into a loose bun at the back of her head and smiling. Just when she felt she couldn’t be more grateful for the changes God had worked in her heart, she found her heart even more filled with joy.
Descending the stairs, she paused for a moment in the pale blue light of the new day. A new day, a new year. Katherine stretched and padded softly into the kitchen to retrieve a leftover pasty. With the shop closed for New Year’s Day and Sally with Mr. and Mrs. James in New York, the day stretched before her, refreshingly empty and serene, full of possibility, like the new year.
* * * *
After breakfast, Katherine curled up in the window seat with Middlemarch, but try as she might, she found it nearly impossible to keep her mind on the story. True, she had hit a dry patch in the narrative, but that wasn’t really the reason. Her mind kept wandering back in time to the Harborside’s “golden age,” when the shop occupied the whole block of warehouses.
The long rectangle of Victorian brick had been built by Edward Braddock in 1890, but apart from those first few years, the Harborside had never been quite prosperous enough to warrant such a large space. As far as Katherine knew, the rest of the block had remained mostly empty in the years since the Braddocks sold the space, yet they had never been able to buy it back. I wonder who owns it now.
Katherine looked down at her book and sighed, starting the page again, but still unable to focus. Maybe I’ll go for a walk, she thought. Tossing her book onto a side table, she flung the blankets into their basket and began bundling up for a cold, damp New Year stroll.
* * * *
Seagulls wheeled overhead as Katherine walked along the wharf. She looked across the harbor to where the dull grey of sky and water met in the distance. Even in the bleak days of winter, she still loved to walk along the wharf, the wooden boards sounding hollow under foot and the waves lapping against the pilings. The sights, the sounds, the smells, all were familiar and home-like.
As Katherine approached the Harborside, she surveyed the brick façade. It looks in good condition. she thought. I wonder what it’s like on the inside.
* * * *
