Searching for Anna Chapter 3 Unpacking the Truth

 

Searching for Anna By Jenifer Carll-Tong

Chapter 3 - Unpacking the Truth

"And then he said, 'Darling, you have the prettiest hair I have ever seen.' Hmph! As if that's the first time I've heard that!"

It hadn't taken Phoebe long to calm down from her encounter with Will Caffey, and she had her little sister's nonstop chatter to thank for that.

"Well, you do have beautiful hair, Sarah," Phoebe said, tugging on one of the blonde curls. Phoebe had always been jealous of her sisters, with their mother's fair complexions and beautiful green eyes.

"That's what every boy says. I'm just sick of hearing it."

"Every boy! My goodness, Sarah. You sound like a veritable harlot!"

Sarah laughed. She plopped down on Phoebe's bed and hugged one of her pillows.

"I'm not a harlot just because lots of boys think I'm pretty. I don't pay them much heed, anyway. I'm waiting for a mature man. One that thinks I'm more than just pretty hair."

"I'm glad to hear that," Phoebe answered, folding another of her blouses and placing it in the dresser. She was only half unpacked, and she had already heard all the latest town happenings from her thirteen-year-old sister - who was courting who, who had gotten married, who had just come home from war. It was enough to make a person's head spin, if they were actually listening, which Phoebe wasn't. That is why she didn't immediately notice when her conversation turned to Will Caffey.

"…and when he asked father if he could pick you up at the train station, I about died! I couldn't think of anything more romantic! The beautiful girl goes off to college, returns home a woman and is swept off her feet by her childhood love…"

"Wait one minute! Will Caffey is not my childhood love. And his retrieval of me from the train station was anything but romantic."

"Still, it must'a been nice to have a man as handsome as Will greet you at the station."

"Will? Handsome? I hadn't noticed. I'll have to take your word for it," she replied as she threw another blouse in the drawer a little harder than she had intended.

Phoebe didn't understand why everyone in her family seemed so enamored with Will Caffey. They had known him his entire life, knew all about his propensity for teasing Phoebe. It wasn't like her whole family didn't all already know what a cad he was. And to think, Father had given Will permission to pick her up…

Phoebe stopped unpacking. "Wait a minute. Sarah, did you say that Will asked father if he could pick me up, not the other way around? I mean, are you certain Father wasn't busy and had to enlist Will's assistance?"

"Of course, I'm sure —"

"That seems a bit ridiculous. How can you be certain?"

"I was right outside the parlor listening the whole time Will was in with Daddy."

"Sarah! That's horrible! You can't listen in on Father's conversations. He's a pastor. What if it had been a personal matter?"

"Oh bother, I don't do it often - only when it's a handsome gentleman caller."

Phoebe rolled her eyes. Her sister was incorrigible, but her mind was already well past Sarah's antics.

'Why would Will want to meet me at the station?' she thought to herself. They hadn't seen each other in years, before Phoebe went off to Bible College and Will went off to the Great War. No letters were ever exchanged between the two, not even the correspondence of childhood friendship, let alone ...

"…just so handsome, what with those wide shoulders, that thick black hair and rugged profile, and those eyes! Oh, those eyes! I think they are green…”

"They're blue," Phoebe corrected without thinking.

"Aha! So, you have noticed him! How else would you know what color his eyes were?" Sarah plopped onto the bed, looking triumphantly at her older sister.

Phoebe sighed. "If you must know, I fell stepping off the train this morning and Will caught me. It put my eyes directly in line with his eyes. That is how I know."

Sarah threw herself back on the bed, jostling Phoebe's belongings. "Oh my gosh! It's all just so romantic!"

Phoebe tried not to be annoyed and to remember what it was like to be thirteen like Sarah, but in all honesty, she could not remember ever being as starry-eyed as her little sister. Phoebe never cared much for the attention of teenage boys, nor the company of girls that did. It all seemed so futile to her, fiddling around with romantic matters years before marriage was possible. It was a waste of time that was better suited for doing the Lord's work. That's why the stolen kiss had been such a shock.

It was the summer before Phoebe's last year of high school, and the church was having its annual Sunday School picnic. Everyone was milling around, eating, talking, and just enjoying a beautiful day. When elementary aged children began a game of Blind Man's Bluff, many of the teenagers Phoebe's age joined in as well.

Will ran up to her. "C'mon, Pheebs. Play with us!"

"Will Caffey, that's not my name!"

"Awe, come now, you know it's my pet name for you."

Phoebe sighed. It was true; he had called her that since they were quite small. She never knew why, but it always bothered her.

Sarah, only a child then, came running up as well. "Please, Phoebe! Please come play! Everyone else is."

It had always been difficult for her to deny her sister anything, and before she knew it, she was right there in the middle of the game of tag.

Phoebe laughed as the children each took a turn as the blind man. Sarah especially enjoyed her turn in the blindfold. She caught several children but could not correctly identify any of them. That didn't seem to damper her spirits, though - she laughed and giggled with every step. Just as Phoebe was becoming convinced that Sarah was lengthening her turn by not identifying anyone on purpose, she caught Phoebe and promptly identified her.

"Phoebe!" Sarah exclaimed.

Shocked, but giggling, Phoebe took the blindfold from her sister and dutifully slipped it on.

She had forgotten how much fun it was to play this game - the challenge of sensing the location of the other children using only your flailing arms, the thrill of uncertainty as you lunge forward, not knowing what might lie in your path. She had also forgotten how confusing it was. She felt a tree – was it the large oak or one of the smaller ones to the east of the building? She felt gravel underfoot but had no idea where there was gravel on this side of the property. And where were all the children? Phoebe kept flailing, feeling the air, searching for another person. She walked a little further - still no one. She was about to give up and pull off the blindfold when she bumped into something – someone.

"Got you!" she squealed. ‘Now, the identification,’ she thought. Without the use of her eyes, she would have to rely on her other senses. She could tell that the person wasn't a small child. Her hand reached out and encountered a broad chest and shoulders. This was definitely a man, not a woman. She began to feel his face. It was clean-shaven. Maybe a boy her age? She felt his hair. It was thick, maybe wavy.

'This part is much harder than it looks,' she thought.

Just when she was about to concede defeat, she felt his arms slip around her waist. Before she had a chance to react, his lips were on hers. She knew she should protest, push him away, but she had never been kissed before and the shock of it happening was magnified by the new sensation of the act itself. His lips moved on hers and her stomach flipped. Then, as quickly as it had started, it was over. He removed her blindfold. It took a moment for Phoebe's eyes to readjust to daylight, but when they did, they were focused on two blue orbs sparkling with mischief - Will Caffey. He ran backwards three steps, eyes twinkling, twirling the blindfold and smiling as if he had just accomplished something. Then yelling, "She found me. I'm it," he ran off to rejoin the others at the front of the church.

"Phoebe? Phoebe, are you listening to me?"

"Sorry," Phoebe responded, snapping back to the present and picking up another article of clothing, "I guess I wasn't. What were you saying?"

"I was asking what you'll be wearing tonight, when Will comes for supper?"

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing now?"

Sarah wrinkled her nose. "You traveled home in that dress."

"And what of it? Honestly, Sarah, I have no intention of putting on airs for the likes of Will Caffey."

"But surely, you'll want to at least freshen up, Will Caffey or not."

"That's a wonderful idea," Phoebe decided, as she ushered her sister to the door. "So, you had better give me some time to right myself after the long day I've had."

"All I am saying is that someone as pretty as you should realize it and start using it to her advantage."

She pushed her sister through the door and shut it firmly behind her then examined her reflection in the newfound quiet of the room. It had been a long day, and Sarah was right - she could use some freshening up. She browsed through her wardrobe of freshly unpacked clothes. She pulled out an especially drab skirt, one common to deaconesses.

The plainer the better, she thought. Wouldn't want Will Caffey thinking I was dressing to impress him."

Though she knew she was attractive, she was not vain. She didn't have Sarah and Esther's curly blonde locks or their pretty green eyes. She favored her father, not her mother, in looks. Her hair was brown, a very dark brown, just like her eyes. But she was not unpleasant to look at. She had always considered her beauty a gift from God, a gift that someday the man God intended for her to marry would appreciate. It had been a long time since she had considered her beauty, and what it might mean to a man. For all of her adult life, she had been focused on her studies. But she wondered now, had she been too focused? Had she been so intent on preparing herself for God's work that she had missed out on the pleasures inherent to being a woman?

As she stared in the mirror, something in the wardrobe caught her eye. She turned, pushed the freshly unpacked dresses out of the way and pulled a frock from the back - a beautiful blue dress that her friend Anna had made for her to wear to her high school graduation. She had forgotten all about it. The skirt of the dress was a little longer and fuller than current fashion, but it was still a beautiful garment. She held it in front of her and looked once again in the mirror.

'It might be a little too fancy,’ she thought. 'But all of my other clothes are so wrinkled from the trip...'

Phoebe turned and hung the deaconess skirt back in the closet.

When Phoebe had finished unpacking and freshening up, she found only her father in the house, quietly reading his Bible and sipping a bottle of Vernor's Ginger Ale in the parlor.

Phoebe's father was unconventional for a pastor, and not only for his fashion sense. He always wore a fine suit like other men his age, but rather than a fedora or a bowler hat, as was the fashion, the Reverend Albright preferred a Stetson, an uncommon hat in Michigan. His unique style only amplified his unique personality.

He hadn't always been a man of God. He was apt to say, "But for the Grace of God and the love of a good woman" he might have died. But his sordid past gave him an understanding and an empathy for 'sinners' that other ministers did not possess, and made him approachable to all kinds of people, not just members of his congregation.

Reverend Albright was loved and respected by everyone in the community, including Phoebe, and that respect was what made her nervous about the conversation she was about to have with him.

"Hello, Daddy."

He looked up and smiled. "Well, there you are, my dear. Don't you look lovely. Prepared to receive our dinner guest, I see."

Phoebe felt her cheeks grow warm and instantly regretted her decision to wear the blue dress. "It's just an old garment, really. Where is mother?"

"She and your sister went to visit Mrs. Knapp. She's been under the weather and your mother wanted to take her some soup and fresh cut flowers. Don't worry. The roast is in the oven and she'll be back in plenty of time to finish up the meal."

Phoebe was glad they had the house to themselves. She stood there a moment, wanting to speak, but not knowing how to start.

"What's the matter, darlin'? Something wrong?"

She sat in her mother's chair across from her father. She took a calming breath, then began. "Daddy, why didn't you send word that Will Caffey was picking me up at the train station?"

Reverend Albright sat his Bible on the table beside his chair. "Well, I didn't think it would matter. Was it a problem, Phoebe?"

"Yes. It was. A very big problem," she started. "I know you are unaware of this, but I find Will Caffey to be one of the most disagreeable men I've ever met."

Her father's eyebrows shot up. "Disagreeable? Will? I'm not sure I've ever heard anyone use that word to describe the boy."

"Well, I use that word, and I have a hundred more like it to describe him."

Reverend Albright leaned forward, his face wrinkled with concern.

"What's he done that's so disagreeable?"

Phoebe paused. What could she say? She didn't dare tell her father about the kiss. He would ask if she had pushed him away, which she had not. He would wonder if she'd slapped him, but the answer to that was no as well. He would also ask her why she didn't tell him, her father, who would have taken the boy to task, but she did not have a good answer for that, either.

"I'm – I don't really want to discuss…"

"This isn't because of that kiss he stole from ya, is it?"

Phoebe gasped. "How did you know about that?"

Her father shrugged. "He told me."

Phoebe didn't think she had ever been more shocked in her life. "Will told you? When?"

"The next day. He also told me about how awful he felt for acting like such a scoundrel."

Phoebe couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Will told you? What did you say?"

"Well, we had a long talk about the sin he had committed against you, against me, against the Lord. I gave him an earful about how I had no use for a man that would do something to a woman against her will. There ain't much more in life I find more contemptible."

Contemptible. Yes, that was a word Phoebe would use to describe Will Caffey. "Yes, Daddy, I agree —"

"After chewin' him out, I gave him some time to think on what I'd said. Then he told me more."

"More? What did he say?"

"He admitted to having feelings for you. That's no excuse for his behavior, mind you, but he said that his actions were motivated more by his inability to keep his emotions in check than they were by some latent disrespect for the fairer gender. But he knew he could make no promises of a future, with the war looming and all, so even if you had given him permission, he knew it was wrong to kiss you."

Phoebe was momentarily dumbfounded. Will Caffey had feelings for her?

Her father continued. "He also said that, if he returned, he intended to court you, if I gave him permission."

This got Phoebe's attention. "Court me? What did you say?"

"I told him to see me when he returned."

She felt the familiar heat blazing a path up her neck. "Daddy! I am surprised at you, giving someone of such low morals hope that he might court me someday!"

He leaned forward in his worn, leather chair and shook a finger at her. "What Will did, coming to me, your father, and admitting his guilt, that's something that only a man with honor would do. If he'd have kept quiet, I'd never have known about the incident - until now, I reckon." He lifted a knowing eyebrow at her, then leaned back. "But that didn't matter to him. He felt he had wronged you – and me – and he intended to make it right."

"And what about making it right with me?"

"I think he plans to, eventually," her father said, smiling knowingly.

Phoebe gasped. "Daddy, I have no intention of being courted by the likes of Will Caffey!"

"Oh, Phoebe, don't be so hard on the boy. He was a bit impulsive, it's true. But there was a time when I was just as impulsive." His lip curled on one side. "I may have stolen a kiss or two from your mother before we were wed, but don't tell her - or Will, for that matter - I told you that."

"That's different…"

"Different? How? Because your mother and I ended up married? I guess only time will tell if your story will end differently – or the same," he said, unsuccessfully hiding his grin behind another sip of ginger ale."

Phoebe crossed her arms. "I could never end up with a lout as disagreeable as Will Caffey. I'd rather die a spinster."

Rev. Albright shook his head and scowled at her. "Those are harsh words. And I don't appreciate the way you treated him today. Will has been through a lot, Phoebe, at home and abroad. War is hard on a man. I know, Will doesn't seem worse for the wear, but mark my words, there are scars, even if they're the kind a person can't see. And he doesn't deserve your ire. If that is the way you were taught to behave in college, then I believe you have wasted the last four years studying the wrong Bible."

His words stung. Her father was right. The way she had treated him today was not kind, nor was it in keeping with how a woman of God should treat others, and she knew it.

"I'll try to be kinder with Will," Phoebe said. "But it isn't going to be easy."

"Nothing in life ever is, darlin'."