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Chapter Fourteen
Arthur dressed her in a soft blue shirt dress, adding the pearl necklace and earrings he and her mother had given her for her sixteenth birthday, and put her hair in a french braid while she ate a bowl of yogurt with granola and honey and berries. When she was ready, he guided her out to the car with a hand at the small of her back, opened her door and buckled her in once she was settled. It was kind of mortifying but also very sweet.
When they arrived at All Saints, he handed her out of the car. Before they headed toward the church through the crowded parking lot—she didn’t remember it being this crowded—he rested a hand on her waist and bent down to speak quietly in her ear.
“I think it’s best if you call me Arthur here. But if you slip up, you won’t be in trouble. I know it can be hard to keep track. Aside from being polite and respectful there’s no right way to behave here. If you want to hold my hand you may, or if you don’t want to be touched I’ll leave you be. Up to you.”
It wasn’t like Saoirse at all to be clingy, but she felt compelled to reach for Arthur’s hand and clutch it in her own. Having the security of him next to her was soothing but it also let all of her anxiety and nerves run wild.
She felt like a statue that had been rendered unstable deep on the inside and the only way to fix it was to break it completely apart and put it back together. Maybe that’s what Arthur could do to her—shatter her first, but build her back up stronger than before.
With their fingers knitted together, they made their way through the parking lot. A lot of people waved to Arthur, called out their greetings. He responded in kind and of course he knew everyone’s names. He was good at that sort of thing.
When they stepped inside, a woman probably her mom’s age greeted them and handed out the paper programs for today’s service.
“Good morning, Arthur. And who do we have here?”
She looked pointedly at their joined hands and raised a ginger eyebrow, clearly having some thoughts about Arthur holding hands with a much younger woman—and in church no less.
“Bea, you may not recognize her since it’s been a while and she’s all grown up, but I’m sure you remember Saoirse.”
Bea. Bee Hive. Bea Iverson.All those little tricks Arthur had taught her to remember people’s names did come in handy.
“Mrs. Iverson,” she said, “it’s nice to see you again.”
And suddenly Bea’s expression went from pearl-clutching to delighted recognition.
“Oh, of course I should’ve recognized you. You’ve got that gorgeous and unusual coloring. What are you doing here? I would’ve thought that you’d be hard at work at law school. Arthur tells us all the time how you’re doing and how proud he is.”
Saoirse snuck a look at Arthur, because…he did? He was? Why would he talk about her at all? But also, what was she supposed to say about law school? Her cheeks burned and her chest got tight and she knew Mrs. Iverson meant well but—
“Saoirse’s been working herself to the bone at school so she’s staying with me for a little while to take a break. The things they expect from students these days…”
Arthur shook his head and Mrs. Iverson clucked in sympathy.
“Oh, I know. My Benjamin is in his junior year and he’s taking all these AP classes and in student government.”
Mrs. Iverson went on for another several minutes about Benjamin’s many,manyaccomplishments and Saoirse was grateful to Arthur for stepping in, distracting the woman from asking any more uncomfortable questions.
She squeezed his hand and he squeezed back and the tightness in her chest eased.
* * *
Saoirse forced herself to not hold Arthur’s hand during the service, and instead occupied herself with the hymnal and the program and the Bible. But he would sometimes lean over and sling his arm around her shoulders while he pointed out other people she would’ve met back when she lived with him or making a comment about the service. It was nice the way he gave her that reassurance because she needed it but also respected that more than that might make it weird.
And Arthur had somehow failed to mention that All Saints’ new priest, Father Gideon, was young. And good-looking. And had a soft English accent that made him very pleasant to listen to. Also he was funny and that was always a nice touch.
When they were filing out of the church with everyone else, Arthur steered her toward the line of people waiting to speak with Father Gideon.
Even though there were a lot of people waiting, the time seemed to pass quickly with a lot of people stopping to chat with Arthur too. Saoirse didn’t fail to notice that along with the way he made sure to include her in all the conversations, he also never referred to her as his stepdaughter. Which of course wasn’t technically true anymore but it was certainly the easiest way to describe their relationship. And he never used it. Why?
Perhaps, a little voice in her head whispered,perhaps because he doesn’t want people to think of you as his stepdaughter because he doesn’t think of you that way. Not anymore.
She didn’t have any more time to obsess over that thought because they were moving up in the queue and finally standing in front of Father Gideon.
“Father, wonderful service as always. I wanted to introduce you to Saoirse.”
The priest shook Arthur’s hand and then held out his hand in offer to Saoirse. She took it, though she also clutched at Arthur’s sweater with her other hand and nearly tucked herself under his arm. Father Gideon had a smile for her too which she couldn’t help but return.
