“I’ll take whatever step seems best to me, and I say now just what I would’ve said if you’d asked me then: that it’s none of yer business, so I won’t have none of yer help.”
Tears sprang to Katherine’s eyes at this, and Captain Braddock looked away, saying gruffly, “I think you’d better be goin’ now.” He limped over to the stove and stooped to stir up the fire. Katherine slowly turned to leave, head bowed and heart aching. As she reached for the door handle, the captain straightened and said in a softer tone, “I’ll bring yer order by tomorrow, like we planned.”
* * * *
Tears trickled down Katherine’s face all the way home, leaving warm tracks down her icy cheeks, chilled by the cold January wind. The sun had set behind thick grey clouds while she was at the Harborside, and now the growing dusk seemed to sympathize with the gloom inside her heart as she walked.
She had broken the captain’s trust, and she didn’t know how to begin to earn it again. And on top of that, he had rejected her feeble offer of help, keeping her outside of the situation, at arm’s length. Somehow, she still felt strongly that he needed help of some kind. But what could she do? Her mind raced as she neared Miss Harriet’s and walked through the door. She locked it behind her and wound her way between the tables to the kitchen.
Turning the tap to fill the sink, she dropped her coat and bag on the floor moved a tray of dishes to the counter. She began the washing up almost mechanically, her mind still busy reliving the sorrowful conversation with the captain and turning the problem of the Harborside over and over in her mind.
At least Miss Harriet will be back soon, she thought wearily as she dried the last dish and turned out the kitchen light. Maybe she can help me straighten all this out.
* * * *
The night of Miss Harriet’s return, Katherine tried to speed through the closing-time cleanup, but she was careful to be more thorough than even Miss Harriet had been when the two had cleaned up together. When Miss Harriet walked through the door, Katherine was determined that she should find the place sparkling from floor to ceiling.
Katherine longed to see her, even more than she had expected to. Miss Harriet’s absence made her realize just how much she had come to lean on her employer as both friend and confidant. She had so many things stored up to discuss with her, she could scarcely contain her anticipation as the expected time for her arrival drew nearer.
As she got out the furniture polish and began to set to work on the long counter, Katherine noticed that there was also a great amount of nervousness to her excitement. She had been in charge of the shop for over a week now, and she was anxious lest she had forgotten some important task or missed some crucial detail.
How desperately she wanted to prove herself! Not, of course, because she felt she must; she knew Miss Harriet would not have left the shop in her care unless she had been completely certain of Katherine’s ability. Nevertheless, she wanted to show that Miss Harriet’s trust had not been misplaced. She also felt that she wanted to prove to herself that she was capable of handling such a great responsibility.
Her arm ached as she worked the polish into the counter, but she was determined it would shine like never before. Her thoughts began to race along at the pace of her polishing. She thought of the Captain, who had been grave and quiet when he brought the tea order the previous day, and hadn’t stayed around to chat like he had the few times he’d been by the shop before. Maybe Miss Harriet would be able to help her figure out how to repair their broken friendship.
* * * *
The hours crept by slowly, but at last Katherine heard the familiar sound of the key in the lock of the shop door. In stepped Miss Harriet, looking rather weary, but glad to be home. In her excitement, Katherine began talking a mile a minute as soon as her friend opened the door.
“Oh, Miss Harriet, I’m so glad you’re back! There’s just so much to tell you about. The customers asked about you every day, and as much as they missed you, I do believe I’ve missed you more, especially when I was washing all those dishes by myself.” Miss Harriet laughed gently, then grew strangely wistful and sober.
“Why, what is it?” asked Katherine, with growing concern, “Is your mother still unwell?”
“No.” Miss Harriet said with quiet calm. “She died Wednesday.”
“Oh, I am so sorry!” Katherine’s eyes filled with tears, and she gently led Miss Harriet over to a table so she could sit down while they talked. Miss Harriet smiled softly as she saw the tea tray Katherine had already placed on the table.
“I figured you might need some tea after your trip.” Katherine said shyly.
“That’s exactly what I need—that, and the company of my dear friend.”
Katherine poured a cup of tea and handed it to Miss Harriet. “Do you…” she said hesitatingly, “Will it help to talk about it? Your mother, I mean.”
“It’s all right.” Miss Harriet gave a sad, but reassuring smile. “I was with her at the last. We had known it would be but a matter of time until she went. My brother sat up with her all night and had just gone to rest while I stayed with her. The crisis was sudden, but quick—mercifully so. There was no time even to call for my brother to come. And then, she was gone. I wish I could paint a prettier picture of her last moments or give you some romanticized view of her with hands and face upraised with rapturous smile, but I cannot. To be sure, there’s no poetry in death.”
“And you were all alone? Oh, how did you bear it?”
“Well, Dearie, the end came so quickly, and unmistakably. I wanted my brother to get some rest while he could. There was no use in disturbing him just to say she was gone, so I just went out into the back garden, where Mother used to sit and look out at the hills we had all loved to roam together.
"The sun was just coming up, and I walked over to the garden fence, as far from the house as I could get. Then--I’ll not lie to you—I wept. Hard. Perhaps harder than I’ve ever wept before. I leaned on the fence rail and gave in to the flood of loss that swept over me afresh with every new thought of Mother.
“But then, a little robin came soaring by with hope in his beak and joy in his wings. He perched on the fencepost and let out the happiest, soaringest trickle of notes I’ve ever heard. His song seemed to bubble up out of his heart in exuberance over the new day. His song struck joy to my own heart as well, for, you see, Mother wasn’t the only one who could pray.
“While I was in the midst of that first overwhelming ocean of grief, I poured it all out to God. I poured out all my sorrow to Him. It seemed as if there was a yawning chasm that just appeared and life seemed ever so bleak, but I poured that out to God as well. When that robin sang, it was as if it startled me out of the bleakness. It reminded me that there was still hope and beauty in life. Of course, it didn’t erase the sorrow; it simply reminded me that joy was still there.”
Miss Harriet leaned forward in her chair as Katherine listened, wide-eyed. “I’ll see her again, Katherine. I’m as sure of it as I am of anything. For you know, the same Savior that welcomed her into heaven just a few days ago has promised to let me in, too. It’s only a matter of time. Remembering that truth brought me the greatest comfort.”
Looking frankly into her friend’s tear-brimmed eyes, she admitted, “I do still have moments where the loss sweeps in, but I cry it out to God, and He brings me through all right.”
Miss Harriet took a deep breath, squeezed Katherine’s hand and said brightly, “Now, let’s have some more tea, shall we? I want to hear all about how things were for you while I was away.”
* * * *
