Blue Heart Blessed (16 page)

I
am carrying a bouquet of tiger lilies and daisies as I head to Father Laurent’s room and it suddenly bothers me—just I’m about to open the door—that there are more daisies in my arms than lilies. I stop just outside the room and contemplate the audacity of having a dozen or more bridal-white flowers in my hands, all bearing my name—albeit with a lower case d. How uncouth.

I am considering yanking a few out when the door opens and Ramsey appears. He made the trip back to Duluth yesterday to pick up uncamp-like clothes. Today, instead of shorts and a faded Hawaiian shirt, he’s wearing a tangerine Henley and cream-colored cargo pants.

“Daisy. I almost ran into you.” His gaze immediately falls on my flowers. All those daisies. Arrogant, pompous daisies.

“It’s fine. I’m fine.’ I mumble, wishing I had a box of chocolates instead. Make that rice cakes. “Are you on your way out?”

“No. Was just going get a cup of coffee. It can wait.” He opens the door and holds it for me. “Dad I and I were just talking about you.”

I snap my head around and a little bone in my neck protests. His tone doesn’t sound particularly neighborly. It doesn’t sound particularly anything. “Really?”

He motions with his head toward the open door. “Want to come in?”

No, what I want is to know is what he and Father Laurent were saying about me. “Um. Sure.”

“Hello, Daisy.” I hear Father Laurent’s voice from within the room. I step inside and am relieved to see him looking pink-cheeked again. He is sitting up in bed in his own pajamas. Ramsey follows behind me.

I walk toward Father Laurent and lean down to kiss his wrinkled cheek. “Hello, there.” I nod toward my bouquet. “Is it okay to give a man flowers?”

“Of course it is. Look at that. Lilies. And daisies. They’re perfect.”

“Yeah. Daisies. I wasn’t thinking when I bought them. All I saw were the tiger lilies.”

“Well, I should think you’d want to give daisies away every chance you got.”

I smile. Somehow it doesn’t sound so pretentious when he suggests it. “I have to say you look wonderful today, Father.”

“Ah yes, it’s the spa treatments, pedicure, and protein drinks,” he quips. “But they’re letting me out tomorrow, so all that will come to an end.”

“Well, it will be wonderful to have you home again.”

He turns his head toward Ramsey. “Yes, I’m looking forward to going home myself.”

“Actually, Dad and I were just talking about that.” Across from me, Ramsey leans over a little to rest his hands on Father Laurent’s bedrail.

“I thought you were talking about me.” I wink at Father Laurent. I wonder if he knows how difficult that was for me to say and not sound ridiculous.

“Well, your name came up when we were talking about where my father should go home
to
.” Ramsey’s answer is quick. Guess he didn’t get my little joke.

A ripple of unease begins to work its way across me. “To his home, of course.”

“I’m thinking that may not be the best place for my dad to be right now.”

I turn my head to face Father Laurent. Surely he doesn’t want to leave The Finland. Leave Something Blue. Leave me, marooned with an unsold wedding dress. “You don’t want to come back to your apartment, Father?” It comes out rather squeakish.

“I have every intention of coming back.”

“Dad.” Ramsey’s voice has that “we’re not done discussing this” quality to it.

Father Laurent turns his head toward his son. “I really don’t think you want an old man tottering around your house.”

“Well, I was thinking we could find a nice facility for you in Duluth.”

“Good heavens, no, Ramsey. I don’t want to live in a nice facility. I want to go back to my apartment.”

“Dad, c’mon. How are you going to manage all those stairs? You’re not supposed to be climbing stairs. And how are you going to get back and forth to your doctor’s appointments? And how are you going to keep track of all your medications? And what if those radiation treatments make you sick?”

“I’m not an invalid.”

“I can help,” I offer. Ramsey shifts his head to face me.

“No offense, but you’ve got a business to run and an apartment building to manage. There’s no way I can entrust my father’s care to someone that busy.”

“But—“ I begin, but Ramsey cuts me off.

“Dad, it just doesn’t make any sense for you to return to your apartment. You had a serious heart attack and now you’ve been diagnosed with cancer. You can’t just go back home and pretend everything’s normal. Everything’s
not
normal.”

“I’m not pretending everything’s normal. But I don’t think everything’s dire, either.”

“Dad, look. There’s a time in every person’s life when they must recognize they can’t take care of themselves. Someone needs to step in for them. I can’t go back to Duluth and leave you alone in that apartment!”

“But he won’t be alone. I said I would help,” I try again. “I don’t mind.”

“See?” Father Laurent says.

Ramsey stands up straight and looks at me. “Could I talk to you for a minute? Out in the hall?”

Father Laurent sits up abruptly in his bed. “This is between you and me, Ramsey!” As soon as the words are out of his mouth, he starts to cough.

“Please, Dad. Just lie back. Okay? I’ll be right back.” He settles his father back on his pillows and then motions toward the door. I follow him out.

As soon as the door is shut behind us he turns toward me. “Look, I appreciate everything you’ve done for my dad, really I do. And I know you enjoy renting to him and having him do whatever it is he does for those little hearts. But I think we need to think about what’s best for
him
.”

The implication is clear. He thinks all I care about is having a friendly priest around to bless my wretched little blue hearts.

“You think I don’t have what’s best for him in mind?” I hope I sound offended because I am.

He blinks and then answers me. “Well, let’s be honest here. My father performs a helpful service to you and you…”

Okay. Now, I’m really mad. I interrupt him. “You know nothing about me. And if we’re being honest here, yo
u should consider whether
you
have your father’s best interests in mind. You think putting your father in a facility so that you can go gallivanting around the planet without worrying about his medications or doctors’ appointments or whether his radiation treatments are making him sick is looking out for his best interests? Sounds like
you’re
looking out for your own.”

Oh, dear. He looks very angry. I can sense Harriet within me shocked to her reasonable core. Appalled.

“I can’t believe you just said that to me.” Ramsey’s face has gone kind of white. It’s not a good color on him. “The way my father talks about you—”

“It doesn’t feel very good, does it?” I shoot back. “To be accused of being self-serving? You said basically the same thing to me.”

“I did not accuse you of running around the
planet
oblivious to the needs of your family.”

But I can’t quite concentrate on my next response. I keep hearing the words,
the way my father talks about you
. Shame overwhelms me. I shouldn’t have said what I did. Harriet is knocking around inside me, shouting at me to apologize.

Ramsey is staring at me. My face is aflame. I feel on the verge of passing out, that’s how warm the hallway has gotten. It’s obvious Ramsey doesn’t know whether to storm back into his father’s room or offer to get me a drink of water.

“I’m sorry.” My voice sounds weak and defeated and I can’t look at him. “Please. Please forgive me for saying what I did. I just… I would be very sad to lose your father’s companionship. He means a great deal to me. And it’s not just because of the hearts. It really is so much more than that. He… But I cannot seem to finish the thought. I wipe away a stray tear.

I sneak at a peek at Ramsey. I do believe he is thoroughly flummoxed.

Ramsey says nothing for a moment. Then his voice softens. “I’m sorry, too. For thinking it was just the hearts you were worried about. But I don’t see another way out of this. I can’t leave my father to recover from a heart attack and begin treatment for cancer while I live two hours away. I won’t do that to him.”

“But I meant what I said. I can help.”

“And run your business? And manage the building? You don’t have the time to take on a patient, Daisy. And he’s my father. Not yours.”

I know he did not mean for this to sting, but oh, it does. I know I winced. I think he senses it.

“I mean I wouldn’t expect you to care for him like that. I should be doing it.”

“But I wouldn’t mind. His… his friendship is very special to me. I lost my own father a few years back and I…” But there aren’t adequate words to describe how much I miss my dad and how much Father Laurent’s presence in my life soothes that ache.

Ramsey pauses for a moment but then shakes his head. “But I just can’t leave him here. Liam and I have to be back in Duluth on Monday morning.”

My mind travels back to the first day I met Father Laurent, when I was just beginning to formulate my plan for the boutique and rounding up tenants for the apartments. He was one of the first to sign a lease and the day he did, he asked about my fledgling business, which at that point was nameless. I told him I was thinking of sewing a little blue heart into every wedding dress as a “something blue” item, and also to give each used dress one new, shiny thing about it. He had said what a lovely idea it was for me to bless each dress with a little hope. I laughed and said that of all people I was the least likely to bless a second-hand wedding dress, and that he was a far more suitable bestower of such a blessing. He had said anytime I wanted him to bless my little blue hearts all I had to do was ask.

So, really the idea came from him.

From the beginning of my woes, he has been my beacon, the physical hand of God on my needy soul. I’m not out of the woods yet. It is still a little murky on the path out of here.

I’m not ready to let him go.

Ramsey is standing in front of me, looking very concerned. Tears have started to slide down my cheeks. I swipe them away. “You have to go back to Duluth?”

“I need to work on getting contracts for this month and the next. I don’t have anything lined up until late August. I’ve got bills to pay like everyone else. And Duluth is my home.”

For a moment we are both silent. Then, out of the blue, a completely crazy idea falls across me.

Crazy and wonderful.

And perhaps completely doable.

I thrust the flowers toward Ramsey. “Get these in some water. I need to check something and make a phone call. Tell Father Laurent I’ll be right back.”

I don’t look at him, but I know Ramsey is staring as I walk away.

O
ddly enough one of the things Daniel liked about me was my flair for idea-hatching. Most of our dates were orchestrated by me, and many of them were far more multifaceted than just dinner and a movie. We biked along the bluffs of the Mississippi in October, ate roasted turkey drumsticks at the Renaissance Festival, played laser tag, made our own sushi and took salsa dancing lessons. You already know it was my idea to get married. I guess that would be the one idea he decided he didn’t like after all.

I had great ideas for our wedding, too. It was going to be held in a historic church in St. Paul; the altar festooned with fountains of ivy and jasmine and peach blossoms. I had bagpipes lined up to play our processional. My bouquet of peach Gerbera daisies was also going to include two white roses that Daniel and I would remove, after we lit the unity candle, and give to our mothers. My bridesmaids’ dresses were made of slipper satin in a lovely multi-hued shade known as nectarine. Daniel and I were going to face the congregation when we weren’t facing each other and have our parents join us in a circle of prayer on the altar. I was going to have individual cakes at each reception table; all decorated with fresh flowers and candied nuts. Instead of rice or birdseed or bubbles showcasing our exit, we were going to leave the reception in a promenade of sparklers.

And of course, I had my dress custom made just for me; a design that I hatched in my head at the age of twelve and improved on as the years went by. Yards of creamy white organza, hints of sparkle in the softly-ruched bodice, a lovely neckline that was modest yet flattering, and a scooped back that was as exquisitely tailored as the front.

A scooped back that now hides a little blue heart on its underside.

Yes, I’m a master planner. A go-to gal if something needs to be planned.

So I wasn’t inordinately surprised that while fighting back tears of frustration in front of Ramsey I suddenly happened upon an idea that would make everyone happy, and keep Father Laurent at The Finland.

All I really needed to do was find a certain building maintenance repair bill from a few months back and make a call to Reuben in New York.

My part would be easy. Pitch the idea, and pray Reuben would go for it.

So that’s what I did as I drove back to the building from the hospital. I prayed.

Lord, have Reuben say yes. Have him say yes. It’s a good idea. Make him smart enough to see it.

When I pop into Something Blue from the back entrance, both Mom and L’Raine are surprised to see me.

“That was a short visit.” Mom places a dress back on the rack.

“I’m going back. I just need to make a quick phone call.”

Her eyes follow me to my little office. She no doubt wonders who I have to call from the office that I can’t call at the hospital from my cell phone. I don’t have Reuben’s number programmed into my cell phone. I hardly ever talk to him. I think he likes it that I run a smooth show here and don’t have to bug him with every little thing.

I open a file drawer and pull out the maintenance receipts. Then I grab my address book and find Reuben’s number. It’s four o’clock in the afternoon on the East Coast. I’m hoping he’s home.

He answers on the third ring.

“Reuben, it’s Daisy.”

“Well, hello there. Haven’t talked to you in a while. Everything all right?”

“Yes, we’re all fine here, Reuben. And you?”

“Oh, can’t complain. Your mom doing well?”

He means for it to sound like casual interest. But I can tell that deep down in some little place that Reuben doesn’t visit very often are feelings for my mother that are decades-old. It’s kind of a haunting concept.

“She’s very well, Reuben. I actually called to share an idea with you about The Finland. I think it’s a really good one.”

“Oh?”

“Well, you know we had that water damage to the building back in March from melting snow and heavy rains? And that it was over eighteen hundred dollars in repairs.”

“Yes, I remember.”

“I have an idea to keep that from happening again and make the building really stand out as a fixture on this street. I think it would raise the property value and please the neighboring business owners.”

“Okay, I’m interested.”

“One of my tenants, Father Miles Laurent, has a son who constructs green roofs. They’re like gardens on rooftops but they’re extremely functional. They absorb and displace water run-off in the spring and fall, and they absorb heat in the summer. Plus they look really nice. It would be an added feature that would allow you to boost your rent to any future tenants. They’re very cost-effective in the long run because of the money you’ll save on building maintenance and cooling costs.”

I pause and allow the idea to settle. When I can sense he is still thinking I throw in another bargaining chip.

“Your building would be one of the few in Uptown to have one. It would be an innovative thing and I think it would be looked upon favorably by people who tend to snub their noses at nonlocal property owners.”

“Hmm. That’s a very intriguing idea. You know, I have a fondness for gardens. And this would be functional, too. That’s very appealing.”

I’m afraid he’s going to ask me how much it will cost. I haven’t the foggiest. I hope he doesn’t. It really shouldn’t matter. Reuben is a millionaire many times over.

He doesn’t ask, though. “Is this something you want this fellow to do right away?”

I can barely contain my enthusiasm. “Yes, actually he has an opening in his schedule at the moment. So he’d be able to start right now. And Reuben, his dad is recovering from a heart attack so I know it would be helpful to him if he could just stay in your apartment while he works on this and his dad recovers. If that’s all right.”

“Well, you’ve thought of everything!”

Yes, I’m the idea queen.

“So can I ask if he’ll do it?” I ask.

“Yes. Yes, I think you should. Let me know if the cost estimate surprises you. Otherwise I trust your judgment. This is a really great idea, Daisy. I must say I can’t wait to see it.”

“I think it’s going to be great, Reuben. Thanks for letting me run with this.”

“No problem. Keep me posted, though. Let me know how much money we’ll need to cover this. And I’d like to see his design as soon as he has one. Can you send me that?”

“Sure, Reuben.”

“Well, good work, Daisy. We’ll talk again no doubt. Say hello to your mother for me.”

“I sure will.”

We hang up and I let out a little victory whoop. When I look up from my desk I see my mother standing in the doorway.

“Were you talking to Reuben?”

“Yes, I was.” I stand up and grab my purse. “He says hello. I’m going to ask Ramsey to stay and build a garden on our roof. He does that for a living. Reuben says he can stay in the extra apartment.”

Mom’s face is awash in bewilderment. “What’s all this about, Daisy?”

I really don’t have the time or the desire to explain the whole thing. I opt for the condensed version. “It’s the only way I can get Ramsey to let Father Laurent stay in the apartment while he recovers from his heart attack and undergoes his radiation treatment. Ramsey’s all set to move Father Laurent into some facility in Duluth.”

“Oh. Oh, dear.”

“Father Laurent doesn’t want to go and I certainly don’t want him to. Ramsey thinks we can’t take care of his father and I need to prove that we can. This will give us some time to show him. Where’s Liam?”

“Well, I think he went with Max to the studio this afternoon. He was going to be photographing some skate-boarders or something.”

Oh, well. I’d like to have Liam’s stamp of approval on this when I suggest it to Ramsey. I’m pretty sure Liam won’t mind spending the better part of his summer at The Finland. He’s made a fast friend in Max. I’m sure he will like this idea.

“I’ve got to go back to the hospital, Mom. Can you and L’Raine mind the store?”

“Of course. But we want to go see Father Laurent later today, too.”

“I won’t be long. I promise.”

I head back out to the parking lot pretty sure I’m right. I won’t be long. Ramsey will either love this idea or hate it.

When I arrive back at the hospital, Father Laurent is alone in his room, asleep. My daisies and tiger lilies are stuck inside a water pitcher on his bedside table. There is no sign of Ramsey.

I head back out to the nurse’s station to ask if anyone knows where Father Laurent’s son is. I am directed to the family lounge at the end of the hall.

Ramsey is sitting on a sofa, reading a newspaper. ESPN is playing on a TV monitor across the room. Anoth
er man is asleep in an armchair. Ramsey looks up as I step into the room.

“You’re back.” He folds the paper and places it on the table in front of him. “Dad’s asleep, though.”

“I know. I saw him. It’s actually you I wanted to talk to.”

He says nothing but his eyes communicate curiosity. I take a seat beside him on the sofa. “Remember earlier when you said you didn’t see any way out of taking your dad back to Duluth with you?”

He clearly is wondering where I’m going with this. “Yes.”

“Well, I’ve found a way out.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve found a way for your father to stay at The Finland, and for you to be near him and for you to have a contract to work on.”

He looks positively baffled.

“The owner of my building wants you to put a green roof on The Finland.”

“You can’t be serious.” Baffled has given way to suspicious.

“I am very serious. We had over eighteen hundred dollars in water damage last spring. And I bet with one of your roofs, that wouldn’t happen anymore. And it would improve the look of the building and be an additional asset to the tenants. Plus, Reuben, the owner, keeps an apartment in the building that is fully furnished and unoccupied. Reuben lives in New York and only comes to the Twin Cities a couple times a year. So you could stay right in the building while your dad gets better and while you build the garden.”

He opens his mouth to say something, closes it and then opens it again. It’s like he has twenty comments to make and he doesn’t know which one to deliver first.

“Are you telling me in the last thirty minutes you made all these arrangements?”

I can’t tell if he’s impressed or disturbed by such a notion. “Well, it wasn’t hard to convince Reuben that this is a great idea. And it’s not a stretch of the imagination to think that you and Liam could stay in his empty apartment. It makes perfect sense. It’s empty. And it’s right next door to your Father’s apartment.”

“But you don’t even know what I charge to build a green roof.”

“I seriously doubt you would charge us something unreasonable. If the project is fair market value, Reuben will gladly pay it. He thinks it’s a great idea. He loves gardens. And so do I. And you could take as much time as you needed.”

“It only takes a couple weeks to build one on a roof the size of yours.”

“But you could take as much time as you needed.”

Ramsey stares at the table in front of him, obviously deep in thought. When he raises his head, the suspicious look is gone and in its place is unease.

“Why are you doing this?” he asks softly.

What should I tell him? That I’m slightly neurotic, recently rejected, unable to let go of the past, and fairly addicted to his father’s brand of compassion? It’s probably all true, but I doubt it will go over well. Truth can be told in a variety of ways. I choose different words.

“Your dad has been like a father to me.” My voice is not much louder than a whisper. “This last year has been a really hard one for me. I don’t know if I would’ve made it without your dad’s friendship and counsel. My own father is dead. And I miss him terribly. To be honest, I don’t want to lose your father’s presence in my life.”

Ramsey looks back down at the table, his gaze unfocused. I know my words have hit him in the place of our common ground—the aching heart. We’ve both just been through a year that brought us to the edge of despair.

“And because your father doesn’t want to leave,” I add. “He deserves to be happy.”

More seconds of silence.

“You should have an elevator in that place.” He says this like it’s his last line of defense.

“We have a service elevator at the far end of the building. No one but Mario ever uses it, and he only for moving heavy things. It’s the old-fashioned kind with a gate. But it works.”

Ramsey runs his palm across his face. He is hesitant.

It occurs to me that if he moves to The Finland for the rest of the summer he will be just mere minutes away from his ex-wife.

I wait.

“What kind of roof is it?”

I breathe a half-sigh of relief. This is progress. But I don’t know what he means. “Kind?”

“Flat, sloped or pitched?”

“Oh. Flat. It’s covered with pea gravel.”

He cocks his head. “You’ve been up there?”

“I go up there all the time.”

“What for?”

“Because it’s quiet and peaceful and uncomplicated up there. There’s nothing but sky and pea gravel and other roof tops.”

He seems to consider this for a moment. Then he exhales, like he’s letting out the last breath of his resistance.

“I’ll look at the roof tonight and I’ll let you know.”

“So Father Laurent can stay?”

“I’ll let you know.”

He gets up and walks away. The man in the chair snorts himself awake, changes position and falls back asleep.