The Peculiar Miracles of Antoinette Martin: A Novel by Stephanie Knipper Page B

in Seth’s lap, and the saucer shattered on the concrete.
    “I’m sorry.” MaryBeth pressed her good hand against her mouth. “I . . . I’ll clean it up.”
    “Don’t worry about it,” Seth said. He grabbed some napkins from the dispenser on the table and wiped the icing from his pants. “That’s one good thing about working on a farm. A little mess doesn’t bother you.” He smiled at her, but she hurried back to the bakery without noticing.
    Antoinette’s hands stopped flapping, and she managed to take a bite of her cupcake. She would make MaryBeth feel better by eating every last bit. Her first bite was all icing. Smooth and lemony.
    Eli watched his wife leave. “She’s having a bad spell. She likes doing things herself, but I don’t think she can keep it up much longer.” His voice wavered, and he looked older than he was.
    “She seems worse than she was last month,” Antoinette’s mother said gently.
    Eli nodded. “Her strain of ALS is particularly aggressive. I don’t know what I’ll do when she’s . . .” He stopped and spread his hands. “God will provide. He always has. Excuse me, I’d better go check on her.”
    Antoinette wasn’t sure about God providing. He never answered her prayers. She stared at the purple candied pansy. It looked like it was covered in glass.
    “You can eat it,” her mother said.
    Antoinette knew that. Cora Jenkins often stopped by their house to collect edible flowers. She tested her recipes on Antoinette and her mother before serving them in her restaurant. She made flower-themed food for the garden show. Last year, she made a spinach salad tossed with tiger lilies and dried cranberries. It had been the perfect mix of bitter and sweet.
    Antoinette felt the temperature drop again. She flapped her hands in excitement, then calmed enough to take a big bite of her cupcake.
    Seth took another napkin from the dispenser. Most of the icing was gone now, but he kept working. He kept his head down, avoiding her mother’s gaze. “Do you really think Lily will come home?”
    Antoinette tapped her fingers on the table. Why is Lily coming? She wanted to ask, but no one paid attention to her.
    “She’ll come.” Her mother’s voice was low, but she sounded confident. “She would have come home years ago if I hadn’t been so stubborn.”
    Seth tossed the napkin on the table, then put his elbows on his knees and laced his fingers together. “She’s going to find out about Antoinette sooner or later.”
    “Let’s hope it’s later,” her mother said. Then she did what she always did when she didn’t want to talk about something, she changed the subject: “Why didn’t you let Lily know when you came home?”
    Seth sighed and shoved a hand through his hair. “I tried. When Mom told me that Lily had moved to Covington, I found her address online and drove to her house. I parked on the street and sat in my truck, trying to get up the nerve to knock on her door.” He lifted one shoulder in a small shrug. “I didn’t exactly end things on a good note, and I wasn’t sure she’d be happy to see me.”
    He shook his head. “God, I was stupid. I should have known seminary wasn’t right for me. I was always more Peter than Paul.”
    Antoinette’s mother gave a small laugh. “I always thought Peter was easier to take. At least he seemed human.”
    “Yeah, well that was my problem. Too human.” Seth frowned. “School was about following a set of rules. I learned which people were too damaged to love and that being a good Christian meant staying away from them.
    “No one was real . No one ever sat down and said, ‘You know what, there’s this place in me that’s broken. I’m not sure whether God exists and, if he does, whether he gives a shit about me. I felt like I was wearing a mask the entire time I was there.”
    “Did you tell Lily any of this?” Antoinette’s mother asked. A chilly wind was blowing and the sky darkened. Her mother shivered. “The storm