Blue Heart Blessed (10 page)

I’
m waiting on the bottom step for Mom and L’Raine. They insist on riding with me to church this morning so that we can go out for brunch afterward. For once I am ready before they are.

There is quiet movement on the stairs behind me and I turn to see why my mom and L’Raine are being so quiet as they make their way down to me. But it is not my mom and aunt on the stairs. It is Father Laurent.

I smile. “Good morning, Father.”

“Hello, Daisy.”

I lean into the wall next to me so that he can pass. He looks a little pale this morning.

“Did you have a nice day with your son yesterday?” I ask.

“Yes, thanks. And thanks again for getting Liam and me to the airport on time.”

“It was nothing.”

“It was something to me. And Liam. He has missed his dad very much.”

“Well, you’re very welcome, then.”

“He and Liam are going camping for a few days on the North Shore, starting tomorrow,” Father Laurent continues in a brighter tone.

“I’m sure they’ll have a great time.”

“I think so, too. Well, have a lovely morning.” He starts for the back door.

“You want a ride to wherever you’re going, Father?” I ask.

“It’s all right, I can walk.”

“Well, where are you headed?”

“I’m going to visit St. Mary’s today.”

St. Mary’s is a bit of a walk. “It’s no trouble to give you a ride.”

“I like walking. But thanks for offering.” He smiles at me and is gone.

I hear movement again on the stairs. I turn and expect to see my mother and L’Raine. Instead Max is bounding toward me. He is wearing baggy carpenter shorts, a canary yellow dress shirt and flip-flops.

“Hey.” He is cheerful, as always.

This is the first I’ve seen of him since dinner at Ping’s on Friday. I wonder if he even remembers that he forgot to take Father Laurent and Liam to the airport yesterday.

“Don’t worry. I took care of it.” I say cheerfully.

He stops on the step just ahead of me. “Huh?”

“I took care of it.”

He has the puzzled face of a Labrador retriever wondering where his tennis ball has disappeared to. “Took care of what?”

“You know. Getting Father Laurent and Liam to the airport yesterday.”

Realization floods over his face with alarming speed. He plops down beside me on my step. “
Omigosh
. I forgot.”

“Yes. You did.”

He looks away—at the plaster wall in front of us, at the heavy wood door that leads to the sales floor of Something Blue. “I can’t believe I forgot.”

I can.

He turns back to me. “So you took them? And they got there in time?”

“It’s all good. Lucky for you I had a boring morning stretching ahead of me.”

“So you didn’t mind?”

“No, I didn’t mind.”

“I’ll pay for your gas.”

“You’re not paying for my gas.”

He leans forward. “I guess we’re even then. You don’t me owe me anymore.”

“Owe you?” I can think of no reason why I should owe Max anything.

“Yeah. For going with you to Ping’s on Friday. Remember?’

I throw him a look of mock-contempt. “You were supposed to
sit
by me and keep me from having to make conversation with a man I didn’t know. Which you didn’t!”

“Well, that’s not my fault. Your mother handled all the seating.”

“You owe
me
,” I say tossing my head. “Not only did you get a free meal at my favorite restaurant, you got to sit by my gorgeous niece. You owe me for that and for filling in for you as airport shuttle service.”

He rewards me with easy silence. Max could care less that he owes anybody anything. “Okay. You’re right. Next time you want me to keep the blind date at bay, I’ll knock over chairs to be able to sit by you. That should go over pretty good. That’s probably worth two.”

“There’s not going to be any more blind dates,” I grumble.

“No?”

“I told Mom not to fix me up anymore. I want whatever’s going to happen to happen naturally and without— ”

“I totally agree,” Max interrupts and I realize he’s talking about himself. “I don’t want anyone playing Cupid. It’s just not cool.”

I’ve been so focused on myself I haven’t stopped to think that Max probably has friends and family members trying to fix him up with dates just like I have.

It’s one of the few things he and I have in common.

“My mother tried to get you and I together, you know,” I say. “When you first moved in here.”

Max is thoughtful for a moment. He doesn’t seem stunned that I said this. I guess it was probably obvious to him, too, what Mom was up to. “Nah, I just think she was wondering if we
did
see each other more often,
would
we, you know, get together.”

His candor surprises me, though I don’t know why it should. Max is about as transparent as anyone I know. I suddenly have the urge to ask him if he’s ever wished there had been more between us. I know he’ll give me a truthful answer.

“Max, have you ever wanted to be more than just friends?”

He turns his head to stare at me. I force myself to not look away. “Have you?”

Not the response I was expecting.

“I asked first,” I counter.

He hesitates for a moment. “When we were in high school I did.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Sure. But you were dating that Ryan dude and then when you broke up with him I could just tell I didn’t have a chance with you.”

“How could you tell that?” I don’t recall warding off any advances by Max. How could he have known that?

“Well, did I?”

I don’t answer.

“I could just tell, Daisy. And actually, when we both went away to college it seemed pretty clear that we would always be just friends. And I was okay with that.”

For some inexplicable reason I feel like I’ve just been slapped. It’s a little like being abandoned all over again. Although in a different way. Deep down I want Max to have wanted me. Even though I really don’t have any feelings for him beyond those of friendship.

It’s that monster in me rearing its ugly head again. I reach into my skirt pocket to touch the little blue heart Father Laurent gave me yesterday morning.

“But how did you
know
that?” I ask. I don’t think he knows I am trembling inside.

“Same way you did. You’ve always known we would only ever be good friends, haven’t you? Haven’t you always known?”

The little heart feels thin and weightless in my fingers. “I guess.”

“It’s not because we’re not totally cool people, either, ‘cause we are.” Max offers. Guess he can tell I’m a little bruised. “It’s just that there wasn’t that special thing between us, that… you know…”

He stops, unable to come up with the right word. I think of
Sleepless in Seattle
and Max’s flair for making coins and cards disappear.

“Magic?” I’m confident this will resonate with him.

But Max shakes his head. “No, it’s not magic. Magic can all be explained. All of it. Every trick I do is really just manipulation and misdirection. I can’t believe that’s what true love is like.”

“No, I guess it isn’t.”

“I think it’s more like… like you suddenly find yourself a prisoner with no possibility of escape but you couldn’t chose another life if you wanted to. Your whole life is wrapped up in that other person. You’ll never leave. You’ll never want to. I don’t think there’s a word for that.”

I can’t remember Max ever having said anything so eloquently.

“Think we’ll know it when we see it?” I ask.

Max stands up. “Oh, yeah. It’ll knock our socks off.” He walks over to the door that leads to the parking lot, opens it and swings it wide. “Ciao.” He winks a goodbye to me.

“Bye, Max.”

His surprising words are swirling about in my head as the back door closes and I hear footfalls behind me.

My mother and aunt are ready to go.

T
here’s a standing invitation to everyone in the building to join Rosalina and Mario for Sunday dinner if you’ve no other plans and are in the mood for South American cuisine. What began as a rather impromptu gathering of whoever was around one Sunday evening four months ago has blossomed into something of a regular block party. Only it’s not a block, it’s an apartment building and there are only nine units. Ten if you count Reuben, and he’s hardly ever here.

Mom and L’Raine often come but don’t eat anything but Rosalina’s rice since they both claim to have issues with spicy food. Wendy and Philip are usually there, and so are Max and Father Laurent. I go primarily to be around people who seem to be living perfectly normal lives. Max goes for the food and Father Laurent, for the company. Solomon has been once, maybe twice. I think he has a thing about eating off a plate on his lap. It must really bug him. He usually has somewhere else he needs to be on Sunday nights.

Rosalina is as masterful at cooking as she is at alterations. Sometimes I can’t pronounce the dishes she makes, but I’ve not tasted one yet that I didn’t love, even if I did need to wash it down with plenty of ice water.

So as I head back to The Finland after a long walk on the shore of Lake Calhoun, I’m anticipating an exquisite meal with enough eye-popping spice to chase away the boring dregs of my lousy weekend.

Shelby still hasn’t called me back.

Max isn’t in love with me.

I’m not in love with anyone, either.

I’m beyond gloomy; I’m bitter.

I can’t sell my wedding dress.

I yank open the back door of the building and head up the stairs. The aroma of something wonderful and wild is wafting down the stairwell.

Whatever Rosalina is making smells wickedly fiery and inviting.

I turn the key into my door and head to the kitchen to toss my empty water bottle into the sink.

My cell phone where I left it on the kitchen counter is flashing merrily. I pick ot up to listen to my voice mail.

“Hey, girlfriend. It’s Shelby. Sorry I missed your call yesterday. Eric invited me to meet his family. They were all getting together at Big Birch Lake for some reunion thing. So anyway, I went. But I’m home now, no plans for tonight, so call me. Okay. Catch you later.”

So she met Eric’s family. His family.
Think happy thoughts, Daisy
. I reach into my shorts pocket to stroke the little blue heart.
Think happy thoughts for your best friend.

A second message is about to play. It’s probably Shelby telling me, “Oops, I forgot! Eric’s taking me to dinner tonight so I guess I won’t be home after all.”

But it’s not Shelby’s voice I hear.

It’s Daniel’s.

I lean against the wall for support as soon as I hear him say my name.

My name, my name, my name . . .

“Daisy? It’s Daniel. Um, just wondering if you have a minute or two to get together? I, uh, I understand if you don’t want to. I just… I just kind of wanted to see you. Hope it’s okay that I called. I’d really like to talk to you face-to-face. Um. Man, I hate leaving phone messages… I’ll just try you back later. So. See ya.”

Click.

End of messages.

For a moment I do nothing. I’m not sure I’m even breathing. I just stand there with the wall of my kitchen holding my body erect.

Then I listen to it again.

And again.

I slide down the wall, my knees coming forward so that when I rest my bottom on my kitchen floor, my bent knees are there to cradle my head.

Lord, Lord, Lord. Now what do I do?

I raise my head. “What do I do?” I yell to the ceiling where God dwells.

And I hear no answer.

Daniel called me.

Daniel wants to see me.

Daniel wants to talk to me.

Face-to-face.

He sounded contrite. He sounded hopeful.

He sounded like a man who has changed his mind.

I lay my head back on my knees.

This can’t be happening. Not after everything I’ve been through. Not after sending back all the wedding gifts. Not after canceling the church, the flowers, the photographer, the caterer. Not after having to explain a million times why I wasn’t getting married after all. Not after all those tears. Not after opening Something Blue and putting a sales tag on my own wedding dress and placing it on a mannequin with no head. Not after weeks and months of trying to piece my world back together.

This can’t be happening.

Daniel wants to see me.

He wants to talk to me.

How long I sit like this, dazed and confused, I don’t know. I just know that at some point the landline rings and I can’t seem to move.

It’s him. It’s him calling me back on my landline. My heart is pounding madly in my chest.

I can’t answer it.

It rings four times and the answering machine kicks in.

I hold my breath, waiting to hear his voice again.

“Daisy. It’s Rosalina. Jus’ wondering if you’re coming. It’s all ready and…”

I scramble to my feet as relief floods across me. I grab the phone, interrupting her message. “Rosalina, I’m here. I’m coming. I’ll be right up.”

“Oh,
bueno.
Can you knock on Father Laurent’s door, too, and tell him?”

“Sure. Of course.”

We hang up.

I’m actually not very hungry anymore. But I don’t want to be home tonight. I need time to think.

I need to pray.

I need to chat with Harriet.

No, I need to talk to Father Laurent.

I head to my bedroom and change into a clean shirt and denim shorts.

I’m out the door again in five minutes.

A few seconds later, I am tapping lightly on Father Laurent’s door. From inside I hear him call out, “Come in.”

I open his door and step inside. His apartment is just like mine; all the apartments at The Finland are pretty much the same. But his living room is full of bookshelves and books; comfy, fat, brown chairs; and piles of newspapers and magazines. The fragrance of fruity pipe tobacco hangs in the air. My apartment is a minimal sea of pale blue, linen white and creamy yellow and no knick-knacks or bookshelves or piles of magazines. I like my apartment, but Father Laurent’s feels more welcoming, in spite of its clutter.

He is sitting at his computer desk by a window that looks out onto the street below. He waves me over.

“There are actually quite a few shipwrecks up there, Liam. Even tales of ghost ships.” Father Laurent is speaking to his computer screen. I make my way over there and I can see that he’s talking to Liam using a webcam. Liam appears to be sitting at a computer desk, too. His face looks remarkably clear on Father Laurent’s screen. “You can learn all about the
Edmund Fitzgerald
when you get up there.”

Father Laurent looks up at me. “Hey, Liam. I have Daisy here with me. Want to say hi?” Without waiting a second, Father Laurent moves aside. I lean over to catch the lens of Father Laurent’s webcam.

“Hey, Liam. How’s it going?”

“Okay.”

“I hear you’re going camping on Lake Superior. You’ll have a great time.”

“Yeah. I want to see the shipwrecks.”

How like a boy to want see destruction up close and personal.

“Most of those are all under water, I think.”

“My dad says there’s one in Two Harbors that people can dive to. It’s a schooner called
The Ely
. It sank in 1896.”

“So you dive?”

The boy shakes his head. “No. But someday I want to.”

Then he turns his head away from the camera to talk to someone else. Ramsey, probably.

Liam swings his head back around. “Dad’s grilling and it’s time to eat.”

“Well, let me give you back to your grandpa, then. Bye, Liam.”

“Bye.”

I move away from the desk so Father Laurent can say goodbye. He clicks off the website he and Liam were using to talk to each other.

“Well. That was fun. Ramsey set me up with the little computer camera. I won’t see as much of Liam now that Ramsey’s back and Liam’s spending the summer in Duluth. So this will help.”

“Yeah. It’s a great idea.” My mind quickly returns to the befuddled state it was in when I knocked on his door. “Um, Father, Rosalina wanted me to tell you dinner’s ready. And—”

But Father interrupts me. “You go on ahead. I think I’ll just have some tomato soup tonight.”

“Oh. Okay.” But I really want his opinion on what I should do. “Father?”

“Yes?”

“When I got home today from my walk, there was a message from Daniel on my cell phone.”

“Oh?”

“He said he’d really like to talk to me. He didn’t ask me to call him back. He just said he’d try again. He wants to see me.”

Father says nothing for a moment. “Did he say anything else?”

“Well, he said he’d understand if I didn’t want to see him and that he hoped it was okay that he called. Father, he sounded sorry. Apologetic.”

Father breathes in deeply. “I see.”

“Do you? Do you see? ’
Cause I don’t. I don’t see at all.” My voice sounds a little shrill in my ears.

“So what to do you want to do?”

“What
should
I do?”

“Well, Daisy, there may not be a right or wrong here. I mean, I don’t know if it’s a matter of what you
should
do as much as what you’d
like
to do. I don’t know how you left things a year ago, but if you’ve never forgiven him and he’s asking for forgiveness, well, then I’m inclined to tell you to seize the opportunity to talk with him. Not so much for him but for you.”

I really can’t decide right now if I’ve forgiven Daniel. He actually didn’t
do
anything bad to me. He just hurt me without wanting to. And I suppose I should forgive him for that. But that’s not what’s consuming my thoughts at the moment. “What if he wants to get back together again?”

Father Laurent blinks. “What if he does?”

“What should I do?” I know it even as I say it that no one can answer that for me except me.

“What do you think God is telling you to do?”

I don’t know. I haven’t asked him. I opted for panic. “I’m not sure.”

Father Laurent smiles. “In all the years I have known God, I’ve never known him to withhold wisdom from someone who asked for it.”

“What if I don’t hear God’s answers very well?” I squeak.

“Well, then obviously you need to hush up and listen better.”

Now I am the one who is mutely blinking. Father Laurent has never sounded more frank.

As I am contemplating all this, Father Laurent reaches for my hand and says a quick prayer for me, interceding for me, beseeching God to lay a little wisdom on me. The prayer is over before I know it. He squeezes my hand and lets go.

“Sure you don’t want to come to dinner at Rosalina’s and Mario’s?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “I’m a little tired tonight. Next Sunday I will, though.”

“Want me to open up that can of soup and get it going for you?”

“That’s very kind. But you just go on ahead.”

“All right.” I turn to start to walk away. “Thanks, Father.”

His smile is wide as he sits there in his chair.