“I heard about last week’s bench catastrophe,” Miss Lily said casually while she unpacked ingredients from a grocery bag.
Rosie collapsed into a stool beneath the counter. “Sheriff Parker was furious, as usual.”
Miss Lily hauled out a large pot from the depths of a cabinet and set it on the stove burner. “Well, artists must suffer for their art, and if that means a bit of accidental vandalism, so be it. I certainly had my share of difficulties. I recall putting on performance after performance despite catching a dreadful case of pneumonia one winter.”
“How could you sing if you had pneumonia?” Rosie asked.
“Pure will,” Miss Lily said. “And my understudy was a horrible girl who was dying to steal my role. I couldn’t let her take it, now, could I?”
“I guess not,” Rosie said, grinning.
Miss Lily opened a cabinet, removing several glass jars of spices. “Tell me what you’ve been doing inside on this beautiful afternoon.”
“Oh, reading and doing homework and—” Rosie stopped, struck with the sudden urge to tell someone what she’d discovered. “Actually, I was researching my father.”
Miss Lily raised both eyebrows. “Indeed, and what did you learn?”
“He has a new role, and the film is shooting in Richmond.”
“Ah.” Miss Lily was silent for several seconds. “I’m sure he’s quite busy. Rehearsals go day and night on film sets. It wasn’t any different for a Broadway show.” Miss Lily had been a famous Broadway actress before she retired and moved back home to Glimmer Creek.
“You’re probably right,” Rosie said, staring at a scratch on the counter but picturing the words written inside the card all over again. “Only—my father has no idea I want to be a director. He might come see my movies in person if he knew about them.”
“Perhaps you should talk to Caroline about this,” Miss Lily murmured.
“I can’t. Mama doesn’t like to talk about him.”
“I’m sure that’s not true. She’s told you all about his career and where he lives and—and …” Miss Lily’s voice trailed off.
“Exactly. She’s told me the most basic stuff. That’s all.” Rosie remembered Mama’s comment from last week; she’d said Michael wanted nothing to do with anything. “She never admits it, but she must hate him for leaving.”
Miss Lily stopped mixing the spices and set down the wooden spoon. “Now, that’s simply not so. Your mama and daddy were very much in love. Caroline could never hate Michael. I can promise you that.”
“I know they met when Michael was working in Gloster in a summer stock theater, but I don’t know much else,” Rosie admitted.
Miss Lily glanced beyond Rosie’s shoulder toward the door. “Caroline is truly the one to ask about this.”
“But couldn’t you … ? Well, couldn’t you tell me something about him?” Rosie asked.
Miss Lily hesitated. “I suppose it won’t hurt.” She rubbed spices into the meat in front of her before choosing her words. “It was love at first sight. Michael saw Caroline in the audience during one of his performances, chased her down afterward, and demanded her phone number. She couldn’t help but give it to him. They were wonderfully happy together. Michael even delayed leaving Glimmer Creek after the summer. But he couldn’t sit still for long. He finally got a role he couldn’t turn down. It was quite sad. I think the entire town missed him. He was only here a few months, but he’d gotten to know so many people.”
“Really?” Rosie had never heard this part before.
“Oh yes. Michael had lunch at Sook Diner every day and spoke to all the patrons. He was fascinated with the town Miracles and would often visit with the Miracled themselves, asking questions about what happened and how it affected them.” Miss Lily smiled. “Thinking back on it reminds me of the summer you spent cataloging every single Miracle.”
Rosie gasped. “I forgot about that. I wanted to write a movie script about them. I still think it’s a great idea.” Even more so now that Rosie knew her father was fascinated with the Miracles just like her. She shivered. This proved they were alike in more ways than they even knew yet.
Miss Lily reached across the counter and patted Rosie’s hand. “I’m glad you believe in the Miracles, darling. I know some young people don’t anymore. I suppose I understand it. After all, there’s no accounting for the Miracles. No one knows what causes them.”
“I’ll never stop believing,” Rosie said fervently. The Festival of the Fish was coming up in a few weeks, and the whole day was all about believing in the Miracles.
“Good,” Miss Lily said. “Because Miracles do exist.”
“Will you tell me your story again?” Rosie asked.
“Come now, you’ve heard it a hundred times.” Miss Lily waved a hand in the air. Her emerald ring caught the light and flung green sparkles across the counter.
“But it’s one of my favorites,” Rosie said. “Please.”
Miss Lily’s face softened, the lines smoothing out and her eyes turning misty. “My first memory is of my mama talking to me, begging me to say something. Her green eyes filled up with tears, and she gripped my arms so tight. I tried to make a sound. I tried over and over, but I couldn’t. And, oh my, I hated to disappoint her.”
Rosie always felt like hugging Miss Lily at the start of the story.
“My parents took me to every doctor they could think of, but there was a problem with my vocal chords, something about improper vibration and my trachea. I’m not completely certain, but I was unable to make a sound from birth. I felt like a burden on my family.”
“You never could be a burden,” Rosie said, outraged.
“It was a different time. We had six children in our family, and no one knew how to handle disabilities. We heard about a treatment center in Boston that could help children like me, but my parents couldn’t afford it. I began selling oysters, pulling weeds for the neighbors, anything I could to earn enough money to send myself to Boston. But it wasn’t enough, so I decided to run away.” Miss Lily gazed off into the distance, falling silent.
“And then?” Rosie prompted.
“And then, the night before I left, I went to the Fishing Well, tossed in a penny, and made my wish. I wished with every fiber of my being that I could find some way to make my mama proud and stop my family from worrying about me. When I woke up the next morning, something was different.”
“How did you know?” Rosie whispered, even though she knew the answer.
“There was a tingling in my throat and a sweet taste on my tongue like sugared roses. I opened my mouth, and it happened. Words burst out of me as if someone had shaken a bottle of champagne and uncorked it all at once.” Miss Lily clasped her hands together. “It was a Miracle. My parents were overjoyed, though it wasn’t until that night that I began singing.”
“And your mama said it sounded as if angels had come down to earth,” Rosie said.
Miss Lily smiled gently. “That is what she said. Soon I was singing in the choir, then on the radio, and finally I made my way to Broadway, where I became a brilliant star and won a Tony Award. Twice. Well deserved, too.”