Heart Song Anthology, Carolyn Faulkner [simple ebook reader .TXT] 📗

Carla looked out on the beautiful rows of trees stretching to the horizon. She’d sung This is My Father’s World since she was a little girl, a hymn celebrating the wonders of nature. Isn’t love the greatest wonder? They’re happy, but not married. Doug and I are married, but not happy. Does white-knuckling it please God more than enjoying love’s blessings?

Sometime between washing the heavy iron skillet and her mother’s favorite mixing bowl, Carla reached a decision. If Doug wanted separate rooms, so be it. She’d thought that agreeing with him this morning might have gotten him to open up more and talk, but no, he had retreated to the bedroom in a huff. Fine. She had been prepared to go the distance, gritting her teeth all the way, but no more. She would turn a page in her own life.

This is just the first step, she thought, as the water drained out of the sink. She dried her hands on the towel hanging from the cabinet knob and straightened it neatly. Eventually he’d see that there was no need for them to live together at all. Separate beds now, but why not separate everything? She could probably finagle a room at the Royal until she retired. Anything would be better than facing, day after day and night after night, the fact that she was living a life so alien to what she’d dreamed of as a young bride in love.

When Carla clocked in, she wished Deidre well. A former student at the college, Deidre had been dating Javier, a striking young man who worked at the restaurant across the street, for several months. They would eat dinner there later before taking an evening boat ride out on the lake.

At the mention of the lake, Carla’s heart sank but her smile didn’t fade. She never knew what might make her remember Katie, but she’d learned to press through, even if she had to excuse herself and have a good cry before resuming her activities. Tonight, though, she was able to hold back the tears. Deidre was about the same height as Katie, the same hair color. She felt a bit of panic rise. Maybe she shouldn’t go on the lake. She closed her eyes briefly, willing herself to stop.

“Have fun, sweetie,” Carla told her instead. As she watched the girl leave, she was surprised to see the Farmers at the desk. Whoever. They’ll always be the Farmers to me.

Mr. Farmer laid the room key down a bit sadly. “I apologize, but we need to cancel tonight’s reservation. It’s after check-out, I know, so if you need to charge me, I understand completely.”

Carla’s face fell. Did Martha Farmer find out about them after all? The “other” Mrs. Farmer’s eyes were red, as if she’d been crying, but she smiled, one arm hooked through his.

“That’s no problem, Mr. Farmer,” Carla said. “You’ve been coming here so long, y’all are like family. I hope, um, I hope everything’s all right?”

The couple exchanged a look and seemed genuinely touched by Carla’s words. “It will be,” John Farmer said with a nod. “I was just called away home abruptly.”

Greta looked at him with shining eyes, although speaking to Carla. “Really. Everything’s fine. Thank you for everything.”

“We knew something like this might happen one day, love,” John Farmer said as he held Greta beside her car.

She began to weep again. “I know. I just... I need you too.”

He nodded gravely. “Don’t cry, Greta.” He took her face in his hands. “You are my life, understand? It won’t be like this forever. I promise.”

Greta nodded and whispered her agreement before looking up. “But after a whole month, John. And on Valentine’s Day? How often do we get to spend holidays of any kind together?”

“Shh,” he said, pulling her to himself. “We see each other more than we ever dreamed possible. This is just a setback. A temporary setback. Things will get better. They have to.”

After enjoying the complimentary breakfast that morning, John and Greta had returned to Room 207 to dress for a day out. It would be a perfect day for riding around with the top down on his car, and Greta wanted to check out the special event in Sebring while they were out. She had taken off the simple shift she’d thrown on to go downstairs to eat and stood in front of the mirror naked, putting her earrings on.

John had walked up behind her and pulled her down on the bed. “Sebring will still be there later,” he said. “Do you mind? You know I can’t keep my hands off that luscious body of yours.”

She’d laughed in response, falling into his arms so that they became a human pretzel of desire. “Oh, definitely. Your devotion is so annoying!”

An hour later, they parked on one of Sebring’s downtown circle’s side streets and walked toward the festival. Tables and tents held everything from jewelry to essential oils, from plants to blood pressure checks. A health fair, combining Valentine’s Day with information on heart disease. Everywhere they looked, they saw red hearts, red flowers, red shirts. Country music played in the background, courtesy of a local band set up in the middle park area.

“They really went all out, didn’t they?” Greta commented. “This will be fun. Oh look! A photo booth. Let’s start there.” When John didn’t answer, she squeezed his hand and glanced his way.

John had stopped suddenly, his face pale under his tan. Greta had followed his line of sight across the crowd. At first, she couldn’t imagine what had caused such a reaction, but then she saw her: Martha Farmer was talking to a hat vendor and she looked angry.

“John?”

In response, he’d whipped her around and headed for the car.

Greta inserted a CD as she headed for her house several hours away. The soundtrack to The King and I had been a favorite since she was a little girl.

She hummed along as her