Page 24 of A Whim and a Prayer

“Ohhh, you mean like Aunt Gabe! Well, that doesn’t sound too bad.”

“Sometimes it is, sometimes it isn’t, but fortunately for both Winnie and me, we were eventually adopted, so all’s well that ends well, eh?” He stepped ahead to open one of the wooden double doors for the girls while he glanced at his watch. “We better hurry—there’s something inside I want to show you.”

“What? But we’re already late, Beck, so how long will this take?” Winnie readjusted her purse over her shoulder, following Abby and him down a wide corridor lined with oak strip hardwood floors buffed to a shine. She glanced at her watch with a nervous grate of her lip.

“Not long …” He stopped at a set of double doors, eloquently carved and inlaid with a glass cross. Opening the door, he held it while extending his hand toward the interior, grinning when Abby gasped outright. “Pretty amazing, huh?”

“Oh my, yessss,” Abby said as she slowly entered, gaze fixed on a large Tiffany & Co. stained-glass window hanging in front of a window at the front of the room, which depicted Christ blessing children. Sunlight streamed through it, casting myriad colors that washed the small chapel in a holy light. It read, “Suffer the little children,” and something akin to electricity zipped through Winnie as she gaped, body stilling to stone. “Suffer” was definitely an appropriate word, she thought with a twinge of bitterness, because that had sure been her experience.

“But whoso shall offend one of these little ones which believe in me, it were better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and that he were drowned in the depth of the sea.”

Of all the Scriptures her sister Hope had read to her at night, this was the one that had burned into her brain like a brand. Far from accomplishing what Hope had wanted—that Winnie would embrace the Bible like she had—it had only solidified a single thought in her mind.

Tying a millstone around the neck of the parents who’d abandoned her.

“If you didn’t live here, how’d you know about this, Beck?” Abby asked.

He shrugged. “I came here with a friend once and thought it was pretty keen.” He turned to Winnie. “What d’ya think, kiddo?”

She gave a noncommittal scrunch of her shoulders. “It’s okay, I guess—if you like that sort of thing”—her smile expanded as she pinched his cheek with a wrinkle of her nose—“and we both know that you do, Father Campbell.”

“Mmm … has a rather nice ring to it, don’t you think, Abs?” Beck hooked his arm around Winnie and Abby with a grin, his jibe more than apparent to Winnie who couldn’t abide the thought of him becoming a priest.

Winnie lightly gouged his side. “Well, come on then, your Holiness—we’re late.”

The moment Winnie stepped into the auditorium, her adrenaline began to flow at the sights, sounds, and smells of theatre production that teased her senses. Similar to Cathedral High’s gymnasium, the auditorium of The New England Home for Little Wanderers had a comfortable, lived-in feel that made Winnie feel so at home with its smell of varnished wood and floor wax.

High ceilings with exposed beams, vents, and hanging lights in colors of beige and brown offered a hint of metal and heat warming up. She closed her eyes and inhaled, the faint smell of industrial soap and lemon oil taking her back to all the plays she’d been in over the years.

A raised wooden stage with narrow stairs was dressed in heavy curtains of dark blue, slightly frayed at the edges. It sported a single podium with a microphone and a thick cable snaking across the stage toward an American flag that stood proudly at the side. In front of the stage and off to stage right stood a single piano, obviously well-worn from assemblies and plays. Dust motes floated lazily in the shafts of sunlight streaming through a bank of windows, a stark contrast to the buzz and hum of children and adults teeming in the wooden folding chairs.

The room shimmered with expectation as young children of various ages crowded the cordoned-off fourth through sixth rows, laughing, giggling, and their chairs creaking with every move. On the calmer side, adults occupied the next three rows, chatting, laughing, and correcting children when needed, fanning themselves with information flyers apparently placed on the seats. Burgundy velvet roping apparently reserved the first three rows for Mrs. Cullen and her crew.

Winnie’s gaze homed in on Mrs. C at the front of the stage, wearing her usual dress of muted colors with padded shoulders and a matching cardigan. As always, she wore sensible, low-heeled shoes and no jewelry except a watch and her wedding rings. Her brown curly bob was pinned back on the sides with tortoise-shell barrettes, and as she smiled and chatted with two girls, she almost looked like a teenager herself, clipboard tucked to her chest.

Winnie rushed to where she stood, emitting a low groan as she glanced at the clock on the wall. “Mrs. C, I know we were supposed to be here early, but Beck’s car gave us problems, so I’m sorry we’re late.”

Mrs. Cullen turned, absolving Winnie with a bright smile as she indicated the two girls next to her with an outstretched palm. “No worries, Winnie—Melissa and Melody LaShure are new students at Cathedral who volunteered to help after joining the drama club, so I put them to good use, along with Norman and Nancy.” She nodded to the girls who were obviously twins despite one’s sleek Veronica Lake hairstyle and the other’s short, curly bob. Other than that, they were mirror reflections with honey-colored hair and deep-blue eyes complemented by shapely bodies Winnie could only dream about.

“Winnie, this is Melody LaShure, who just happens to be a gifted pianist, so she will be our piano player for today and all future practices, and this …” she said with a touch to the other girl’s arm, “is her twin sister, Melissa, who I’m delighted to say will be in charge of costuming since she just happens to be an excellent seamstress.”

She turned to hook an arm to Winnie’s waist. “And this, ladies, is our very talented leading lady, Winnie Dennehy, who is also assisting me in too many details to count.”

“Hello, Winnie,” both girls said in unison, extending their hands in greeting.

Winnie gave a firm shake and a smile to each. “Welcome, ladies, it’s wonderful of you to volunteer, especially with those special talents that we truly need.”

“I hear you have talents of your own,” Melissa said, her smile serene as she brushed a long lock of honey gold over her shoulder, “both in acting and singing, so I’m looking forward to seeing you in action.”

“Well, thank you—that’s nice of you to say.” Winnie glanced around, spotting Beck talking to an older gentleman while Abby gabbed with Nancy and Norman and some of the other drama-club volunteers. Beck smiled and gave her his teasing wave—a private joke between them where he did this rendition of a priest’s blessing with a fast and blurred sign of the cross, just to tease her.

Shaking her head, she laughed and turned back.

“Is that your boyfriend?” Melissa asked with a curious curl of her lips, approval warm in her gaze as she smiled at Beck.

“No, he’s just a friend”—Winnie’s eyes narrowed the slightest bit—“one of my best friends actually.”

“Good to know,” Melissa said softly, never taking her eyes off of Beck until Mrs. C asked her a question.