Searching for Anna Chapter 4 Playing for Keeps

 

Searching for Anna By Jenifer Carll-Tong

Chapter 4 - Playing for Keeps

Will stood outside the Albright home, running his fingers through his dark hair, still damp from his hurried washing. He'd had a stressful afternoon and was looking forward to an evening with his favorite family to help him forget the news he'd just been given, if only for a few hours. He'd have to face the reality of his situation eventually. But not tonight. Tonight was about reconnecting with the Albrights, one Albright in particular.

Phoebe.

Will tapped the brim of his campaign hat against the bouquet of flowers he held in his other hand and stared at the front door. Although he had apologized for his previous behavior, he hadn't waited around to find out whether or not Phoebe had accepted that apology. He couldn't - watching her stand there, arms crossed and all bulled up like she was ready to clean his clock, it took all of his willpower to not reach out and take her into his arms and kiss those pursed lips of hers. But standing here now, knowing Phoebe was on the other side of that door, he worried that he might be entering a war zone.

A slow smirk played at the corner of his mouth. He'd had plenty of experience in war zones. This one, he would enjoy. He lifted his hand and knocked.

"I'll get it!" he heard Sarah holler.

"No, you won't!" Mrs. Albright's voice reverberated through the door. "Phoebe will."

He chuckled when Phoebe's muffled, indiscernible words were followed by an enormous sigh loud enough to hear on the porch. But any mirth he felt dissipated immediately when the door opened, and she stood before him. Though he would have sworn it impossible, she seemed to have grown more beautiful in the past few hours.

She wore a pale blue color that, against her perfect creamy skin, accentuated the heightened pink of her cheeks. Her dark, silky hair which had previously been pulled back in a tight bun, a look Will always appreciated because it gave him full view of her beautiful face, was now softly swept high upon her head.

Will cleared his throat when he realized he had been staring, mouth agape. "Good evening, Pheebs. Don't you look lovely."

"I will thank you very much to stop calling me that." She turned and stormed.

Will smiled. War zone.

"That, my dear, was a delicious dinner," Reverend Albright said, patting his protruding stomach.

"I absolutely agree," Will said, leaning back and doing his best to stick his otherwise flat stomach out. "Haven't had a meal that delicious since my ma passed."

The conversation in the room stilled. Will was grateful. He hadn't prepared himself for the torrent of emotions that washed over him at the remembrance of his mother. Having lost his father at nine years-old, Bessie Caffey became all things to her young son - spiritual guide, hardworking breadwinner, steady disciplinarian - all the while remaining the loving mother she had always been. Everything she did was done with a quiet grace, whether washing his scraped knee or baking his favorite cookies, and she always found a way to make Will feel loved. And though he knew she was in heaven with Jesus, there was a part of his heart that ached for her every single day.

"Your ma was a great woman," Reverend Albright said, breaking the silence.

"Yes, sir. She was," was all he could think to say.

"I cared very much for her."

Phoebe's gentle voice stunned his senses momentarily. She reached down and took his empty plate. "She was special to me," she said.

Will looked up at her, enraptured by her sincerity as much as by her nearness. "Thank you, Phoebe. You were special to her as well." Mrs. Caffey loved all of her Sunday School students, especially the Albright sisters, but Will knew that Phoebe held a special place in her heart. Something he and his mother had in common.

"Phoebe, why don't you and Will head on into the parlor for a game of checkers," Reverend Albright suggested.

"Oh, yes," Mrs. Albright chimed in. "You two go on. Sarah and I can see to the dishes."

"Of course," Phoebe said, handing the plates she held to her mother. "Would you like to play checkers, Officer Caffey?"

Will tried to not look shocked at her acquiescence. What happened to the spitfire that had met him at the door? "It's Will, remember?" he said, rising as well. "And I would like that very much, although I do prefer chess to checkers."

"Actually, so do I," she said as she led him into the parlor. Phoebe pulled a worn chess box from the shelf and began setting the game up on a small table in the corner.

"Do you play often?" Will asked as they began.

"Not recently," she answered. "I haven't had much idle time in the past few years to play."

"Neither have I," Will admitted. "It's nice to play again. It's nice to play with you."

Phoebe tensed slightly at his words, but all she said was, "It's your move."

Will was confused by Phoebe's change in demeanor. Her usual wit and sarcasm had been replaced with a forced civility that seemed strange on her. Many men would have welcomed the change, but not Will. He liked Phoebe just the way she was.

They played swiftly, Will capturing her rook, Phoebe taking his bishop. She was quite skilled in the game as well and made for a worthy opponent.

"Do you remember playing marbles when we were kids?" he asked.

Phoebe's hand paused on a knight and tilted her head. She nodded and scowled. "We always played keepsies. You won my favorite aggie off of me."

War Zone.

Smiling, Will unbuttoned one of his shirt pockets and pulled out a large, glass marble. Phoebe gasped and reached for it, but he yanked it out of her reach.

"Hey, now!" he laughed. "It's mine."

"I loved that aggie. It was unfair of you to take it."

"Unfair? I won it fair and square!"

"You knew that I wasn't very good at marbles, yet you insisted we play for keeps."

Will leaned closer. "With you, my dear Phoebe, I have no other intent than to play for keeps." He carefully placed the marble in the center of the board and leaned back into his chair. "Tell you what…I'll give you another chance to win this back."

She scowled at him. "What's the catch?"

"No catch. Winner of this game takes all."

"All?" She leaned back slightly. "By all, you mean the aggie?"

Will raised his own eyebrows in response. "Unless you'd like to sweeten the pot."

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "I'll have you know, I'm not a novice at chess."

"Neither am I."

It was only a marble, but Will knew Phoebe well enough to know that it meant something more to her. Winning the aggie back meant redemption, vindication, and a chance to regain her pride.

A slow smile spread across her face. "Well, sir, I believe the next move is yours."

Will nodded and they returned to play. Where their conversation had been stilted before, it was non-existent now as they both focused on the board with intensity. Will played well, but Phoebe was a formidable opponent, as he knew she would be.

"You could just give me the aggie and we can call the game complete," she said after taking out his knight. "It isn't necessary for you to be completely humiliated in order for me to get it back."

Will smiled. "You should know me by now, Pheebs. I don't give up. Especially where you are concerned."

She did not respond, nor did she lift her eyes from the board. "Tell me, why'd you keep it all these years?"

"The aggie?" Will shrugged. "It's special. I don't believe much in luck, but this was a comfort to me while I was in France."

"I hardly see how something as trivial as an aggie could bring you comfort."

"It wasn't the aggie itself. It was the memory of the girl it belonged to."

She looked up then and locked eyes with him. Her mouth opened and Will thought she was about to say something but just then, Mrs. Albright spoke quite loudly to her husband across the room.

"My word, James. How many times are you going to read that letter? Is it really that interesting?"

Rev. Albright rubbed his forehead. "It's from Frank."

Mrs. Albright put down the copy of Ladies' Home Journal. "Is something wrong? Please tell me it isn't Helen."

"No, nothing like that. He's having trouble filling posts at some of his churches."

"Well, no wonder. The U.P. is desolate, void of the modern conveniences most young preachers and their brides are accustomed to."

"He says it's not all that bad. With the copper and iron mines came the railroads. Lots of small towns, and good-sized ones, have popped up all over."

"Well, what does that have to do with you?" she asked, flipping through her magazine again. She stopped suddenly. "He doesn't expect you to pick up and move north, does he? At our age?"

"No, no. Not at all."

"Well, what then?"

"He is inquiring about Phoebe."

At this, all heads in the room turned toward the minister.

"Me?" Phoebe asked. "Why on earth would he be asking about me?"

Reverend Albright looked at her. "He wants to know if you'd be willing to take a church."

"You must be joking!" Mrs. Albright sputtered. "Why on earth would he ever suggest such a thing? A young, single woman - pastoring a church on her own? Well, that's absolutely ridiculous…"

Mrs. Albright continued speaking, but Will heard none of it. All of his attention was focused on the woman sitting across from him and the emotions that played about her face.

"Now, Ruth, don't be so old-fashioned. There's nothing wrong with a woman pastor."

"But in the Upper Peninsula? How would she survive? How would she live?"

"I'm sure it's not as bad as you are imagining, otherwise Frank wouldn't be suggesting it."

Phoebe's gaze dropped from her parents' conversation and settled on the chess board, but it was obvious that her mind was not on the game. Her delicate forehead wrinkled above knitted brows as she bit her bottom lip. Was she honestly considering taking a church in the Upper Peninsula? Was she scared of the idea? Worried? Or was she experiencing something different? Was her heart beating as erratically as his was at that very moment?

This isn't what Will wanted for her. Phoebe deserved so much more in life than the hardships the Upper Peninsula could offer. Surely God wouldn't subject her to a life like that. Hadn't he said those exact words to God this very afternoon?

Phoebe's eyes lifted and locked with Will's.

They do not know the thoughts of the Lord, they do not understand His plan.

When Will had read that scripture in the book of Micah that morning, he had thought God was giving him a message for another reason, that God was giving him confidence to turn down the assignment he had been given. But now, staring into Phoebe's dark eyes, he realized that he was the one who did not understand God's plan. He was the one who would be gathered like sheaves on the threshing floor if he impeded the Lord's plan.

It was Will's turn to avert his gaze from Phoebe's. "Did he mention where this church is?" Will asked Reverend Albright, not looking up.

"A place called Iron Falls," Rev. Albright answered.

"I don't care what it's named, no daughter of mine…"

Mrs. Albright's rant was interrupted when the front door swung open.

"Where is that college graduate of ours?"

All eyes turned toward the entrance as Esther, the eldest Albright sister flounced into the room. She pulled Phoebe from her chair and into an embrace.

"I've missed you so much," Esther nearly squealed. "I'm so glad you're finally home!"

"So am I," said her husband John as he casually entered behind her. "Now my wife will have someone else to take her shopping. It is a truly taxing event."

Esther smiled coyly at him as she rubbed her protruding stomach. "Well, you are to blame for this ever-growing belly of mine, are you not? The least you can do is to help me replace the clothing I've outgrown."

John had no response to that, except to rub the back of his neck and clear his throat, a nervous gesture that brought Will to laugh out loud at his friend's discomfort.

John elbowed Will in the ribs. "It's your fault I married her."

"I will proudly accept the blame," Will said, slapping John on the shoulder. "I knew she was the perfect match for you."

John, a journalist at the Lansing State Journal, had been Will's best friend since they fought side-by-side in the Great War, and his marriage to Esther had only strengthened that bond. It also, Will hoped, would someday make them brother-in-laws.

"Daddy's friend wants Phoebe to pastor a church in the Upper Peninsula!" Sarah exclaimed.

In unison, Esther and John looked from Sarah to Phoebe.

"The U.P.!" exclaimed Esther. "Oh, no! You can't! You've only just come home."

John looked at Will and raised an eyebrow in question. Will stuffed his hands into his pants pockets and averted his gaze. He knew what John was wordlessly asking, but Will didn't have an answer.

"It's one thing to pray for God to protect you while you are away at college," Esther continued. "Quite another to send you off to the frozen frontier! Daddy, tell her she can't go!"

"Well, Esther, nothing's been decided." Reverend Albright rocked back and forth on his heels. "There's no need to go worrying."

No, Will thought. I'm worrying enough for all of us.

"I hate to interrupt," Will said, "but I must be getting back to the barracks."

John looked surprised, as did Mrs. Albright. "Oh, must you? Can't you stay a while longer?" she asked.

"No, I'm sorry. But thank you so much for dinner. You have no idea what it means to have a home-cooked meal."

"But what about our game?"

It was Will's turn to be surprised. Everyone, including Will, turned and looked at Phoebe. Her cheeks instantly flushed.

"I – I mean, there is the matter of the aggie," she managed to stammer out.

"Of course, Pheebs," Will said. They both returned to the table. He concentrated for only a moment, moved his remaining bishop, and took out her knight.

"Checkmate."

Phoebe's mouth slowly fell open as she stared at the board then lifted her eyes to stare at Will. He winked as he grabbed the aggie off the board and nodded goodnight to everyone.

"Wait, Will," Esther called out. "Phoebe will see you out."

Will grabbed his hat off the hook in the foyer and stifled a grin at the sound of Phoebe's exasperated sigh. He turned to see both Mrs. Albright and Esther feverishly whispering and wagging fingers at her. She clenched her fists at her side and strode toward Will and the door he held open for her.

"Thank you for coming to dinner," she said in much the same rehearsed sounding way she had all the times when, as children, her mother had made her apologize to him even though it was obvious she wasn't the least bit sorry. "And for once again stealing my aggie."

"You mean once again beating you fair and square," Will said with a wink.

She lifted an eyebrow at him. "I will admit, you are a better player than I expected, Officer Caffey."

"Officer Caffey?" Will chuckled. "Well, Miss Albright, have we returned to formalities?"

"I'm sorry," she said. "I guess seeing you in your uniform brings formality out in me."

Will leaned against the handrail. "Well, I'd gladly take it off for you."

Phoebe's eyes grew wide, and she gasped. "Why, I never…How dare you!"

It only took a moment for Will to decipher the look of shock on her face. He threw his head back and laughed heartily.

"That's not what I meant," he said, trying with great difficulty to gain control of his mirth. "All I meant was that when I'm invited for supper again, I'll be sure to wear civilian clothing."

"Oh," she whispered and averted her eyes. This disappointed him greatly. He loved looking into her eyes.

She wrapped her arms around her middle.

"Pheebs, you're shivering."

"Why must you always call me that?"

He knew he shouldn't press his luck, but he just couldn't help himself. "Because you won't allow me to call you darling…yet."

That was obviously her breaking point.

"Will Caffey, you are the most annoying man I have ever met! I tried in vain to be polite to you, but at every turn, you provoke me! I - I hope you choke on that aggie!"

She turned quickly, skirts twirling, and stormed up the stairs. But her hands were still clutching her waist, and not her skirt. Her boot tangled in the fabric and she lost her footing. Will watched as she tried in vain to right herself, but her efforts only made matters worse, and she began to fall backwards.

Phoebe screamed. Will lunged toward her and, for the second time that day, caught Phoebe before her backside landed on the ground.

His heart thrummed hard against his chest as he held her in his arms, her large brown eyes looking up at him, wide with shock. Those eyes. How he longed to lose himself in those dark orbs. He said the first words that popped into his head.

"Why Phoebe, I do believe you are making a habit of this."