Page 8 of My Heart Will Find You

Henry was frowning. “You can’t give up. There’s—”

“Stop!” She was serious. “My life is good. I have a family and friends and a job I love. I don’t ask for more.”

“Maybe you should,” Henry said softly.

Annoyed, Etta frowned. He wasn’t the only person who’d said this, but it wasn’t any of his business. Maybe it was a mistake staying here. She started to say that, but then the door to the house next to them opened.

Abruptly, Henry put down his fork, leaned back in the chair, and went quiet.

Etta was glad to drop the conversation about what-Etta-should-do-with-her-life. “What’s going on?”

Henry made no answer, but then singing filled the air. It was a woman’s voice but it was deep. “Rich” is the only word to describe it. The sound was ethereal. Divine. Jessye Norman come back to life.

Etta didn’t realize that she’d halted with the fork to her mouth. When Henry reached out and touched her wrist, she put her hand down. Like Henry, she leaned back in her seat and listened.

The woman sang three songs, all church hymns. “Nearer My God to Thee,” “Holy, Holy, Holy,” and “Just a Closer Walk with Thee.”

When the third one ended, Henry got up, went into the kitchen, and returned with a fork, plate, and a tall glass of ice water. He put them on the table between them.

A minute later, a woman came out of the house. She was large but not fat, and she moved with her shoulders back, her head erect. She was an impressive-looking person.

Henry held out the chair for her and she sat down.

“This is Etta,” he said. “She’s staying here and looking after me.”

“Someone has to.” She was probably thirty years younger than Henry, but she gave him a flirty look. They’d obviously been friends for a long time.

“That was beautiful,” Etta said. “Do you sing professionally?”

“Only in church,” she said quickly.

“Oh but you should! You could—” Etta stopped at Henry’s look. Uh-oh. Sore topic. “And for us,” she said. “A private concert for Henry and me. We are blessed.”

Henry smiled in approval. “This is Sophie.”

Etta snuggled down in the bed. It was barely 10:00 p.m., but she was very sleepy.Probably Henry’s influence, she thought. At nine thirty he said he hadn’t stayed up so late since he was a youthful sixty.

As she looked about the room, deep in shadow from the bedside lamp, she was beginning to feel like there’d never been a time in her life when she didn’t know him.

Sophie hadn’t stayed long. She’d had a helping of Etta’s custard with the burnt sugar crust, and said that she was a secretary at an insurance agency. Abruptly, she said she had choir practice and had to go.

As soon as they were alone, Etta gave Henry a hard stare. He knew what she was asking. Why wasn’t Sophie singing professionally?

“Extreme stage fright,” was his answer.

Etta cleaned up as fast as she cooked, then she told Henry she wanted to rummage in his library. “I want to seeyourbooks.” She could see that he was pleased by her request.

They spent the rest of the evening in companionable silence. Etta pulled a chair and a table near Henry’s books and began going through them. After he went to bed, she took a couple of books and went upstairs to shower and snuggle down. What was better than a comfortable bed with clean sheets and good books?

Yawning, she was about to turn out the light when a photo fell out of a book. It was of teenage boys playing soccer. She recognized Ben right away. He was running after the ball that was near the goalpost.Bet he made it, she thought.

She put the photo on the bedside table, then picked it up again. To the side was a young man, older than Ben, maybe early twenties, and he was smiling in what appeared to be pride. He looked a bit like Ben. A cousin? A nephew? she wondered. She put the picture down, turned out the light, and promptly went to sleep.

Two hours later, Henry made his way up the stairs. He had to pause twice to catch his breath. He’d had many years of nightly checking on people he cared about, and his faulty heart wasn’t going to stop him now. The hall light was enough that he could see Etta was sleeping soundly. As he turned away, he saw the photo on the table. It was the day Ben won the game. That had been happy!

He picked the photo up and left the room, then struggled with the stairs. He was relieved when he made it down. Minutes later, he was in bed and his heart settled to an even pace.I’ve done it!he thought.I’ve accomplished my goal. At least I pray I have.He went to sleep.

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