At Last (The Idle Point, Maine Stories) - By Barbara Bretton Page 0,8

the dead and Mona was gone five years this past May. So much had happened in those five years: Noah was in their life and she had discovered a happiness she hadn’t believed attainable. All of those years spent searching for the answer and it had been right there, hiding behind a wall of disappointment so high she thought they would never get past it.

It all changed the day Mona Taylor died.

Ruth's face burned with embarrassment. How could she think such a thing with Mona's little girl walking next to her, as quiet and drab as one of those little field mice Ruth saw scampering across the lawn in the morning. She had wished many times that Mona and Ben Taylor would pack their bags and leave Idle Point forever but she'd never once wished the woman dead, not even in her darkest moments. You couldn't build a good life on a foundation of hatred. You couldn't raise a healthy happy child in an atmosphere of anger. There was so much sorrow and hatred in the world. Was it so wrong of her to want to keep it as far away from her family as she possibly could?

Maybe Simon was right and she shouldn't have said yes to Del's request. Certainly the good Sisters of the Blessed Virgin would have opened their doors to Gracie for a few hours each afternoon. She knew Del was a Catholic, one who probably gave away far too much of her salary to the Church. The old woman kept a blue rosary in the right-hand pocket of her apron and fingered it nervously like one of those Greek fishermen with the worry beads Ruth had seen on their vacation last year. Certainly if Del had approached the nuns, they would have found it in their hearts to help out.

"Family first" was Simon's motto. Nothing came before the sanctity of the family. He hadn't always understood the meaning of those words but since Noah's arrival, he was a different man. Ruth knew she would be a fool to rock the boat but she was very fond of Del and there were times when she felt she owed the Taylors something. She wasn't exactly sure what or why, but a nagging sense of guilt was always there when she thought of what had become of Ben and his family. Somewhere along the way there must have been something she could have done to change things. Maybe if she'd stood up for herself with Simon or challenged Mona or been a better wife, a better woman, there might have been enough happy endings to go around.

But she hadn't. Ben was a drunk who lived off the money his elderly mother made cooking for the Chases. His wife was dead and buried while his sad-eyed little girl clung to the hand of a stranger with the kind of trust that the world would knock out of her before too long. And then there was Ruth, queen of the house on the hill, blessed with a husband who was the most powerful man in town and a beautiful little boy with the face of an angel and all because she'd opted for silence, for the status quo. In the end there had been just one happy ending to go around and it belonged to her.

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Del was waiting for them on the front steps. Her hands were buried deep in the pockets of her apron and she didn't smile until Mrs. Chase let go of Gracie's hand.

"In the house, child," she said to Gracie with a nod of her head toward Mrs. Chase and Noah. "We've been enough of a nuisance for one day."

"Not at all," said Ruth Chase, her pale green eyes widening with surprise. "Gracie was great company, wasn't she, Noah?"

Noah was six years old and he had other things on his mind.

"Cookies and milk on the table, same as always," Del said as the little boy ran toward the kitchen door. "Wash your hands first."

"You take such good care of him," Ruth said. She still had the same nervous smile she'd had as a girl. Del remembered that smile from the days when Gracie's father was captain of the high school football team and all the girls in town vied for his attention

"It's my job," Del said, her fingers tightening around her rosary beads.

"You treat Noah like one of your own."

"He's a good boy."

Ruth glowed with pleasure. She adored that child which was a point in her