Authors: Emilie Richards
“I don’t know if we’ll be able to live with Mama after today.”
“You did a wonderful thing here.”
She smiled. “I’m glad you approve.”
“I’ve never been fair to you, have I?”
She thought about that a moment. “You were probably fair. You saw what I wanted people to see. I’d like to think there’s more to me than that, though.”
He slung an arm over her shoulder and gave her a quick hug. “Truce?”
“Let’s just be friends and call it a day.”
She hugged him back; then she started for the hallway. “Oh, Mack, have you been next door?”
“I came straight down here.”
“There’s another quilt to see there. Don’t leave without a look.”
He enjoyed the baby quilts some more and waited for Tessa, but when she didn’t appear, he left the nursery and went next door to the kindergarten room.
He was sitting there, gazing at the lone quilt on the wall, when Tessa found him.
“Hi. Sorry I was late,” she said. “They just finished. Gram looks like she’s about done in for the day. She’s so happy, Mack.”
“Did you know about this?” Mack gestured to the quilt just in front of him.
Only then did Tessa turn and examine it. She stared at it for a long time. When she turned back to him, her eyes glistened. “No.” The word was spoken softly. Clearly she hadn’t known.
The quilt showed a little girl in a silly hat doing all the things their daughter had done. The sign simply said “Kayley’s Quilt,” and beneath it, “Pieced by Helen Henry and Quilted by Nancy Whitlock.”
“Mom quilted it,” Tessa said. “And Gram made the blocks. I wonder how long…”
“We’ll ask your mother about it. But she wanted us to see it. She made sure I came over here.”
“Kayley would have loved it. It would have meant so much to her. Even Biscuit looks real.”
“I hear Biscuit’s come home to stay.”
“You keep hearing things from other people and nothing from me.”
“That’s not the way I prefer it.”
“I’m keeping Biscuit, Mack. I can’t give her away again. She’s so glad to be with me. I’m glad you sent Bonnie to find me.”
She had used “me” twice. The word made him sad.
She faced him. “Biscuit would be even happier to be with both of us.”
He took her hands. “Are
you
coming home?”
“I don’t know. Not yet.”
He squeezed her hands before he dropped them. “I want you there.”
“Maybe you don’t.”
He knew the time wasn’t right to talk about this, and once again, as he had so many times before for so many years now, he changed the subject.
“If your mother and grandmother give their permission, would you like to donate this quilt to the library for their new addition?”
“Perfect.” She swallowed, and he watched her struggle not to cry as she had struggled so many times before.
He pulled her against him and wrapped his arms around her. When the tears began to fall, he held her closer.
A
ll in all, nearly two hundred people had come through the church that day to see Helen’s quilts. When the cleanup crew arrived to tidy the building for the next day’s services, Nancy asked Tessa to take the exhausted Helen home, leaving the rest of the family behind to help. Mack was charged with overseeing the removal and packing of the outdoor and nursery quilts. The other quilts would remain in place to be admired by churchgoers and removed the next evening.
Nancy thanked all the volunteers and gave each one a little bag of potpourri bundled in a quilt square from Helen’s “reject” pile. Even Helen’s rejects were special enough to be lovely gifts.
Billy joined her as she put the finishing touches on two huge bouquets of wildflowers sitting on the simple altar.
“I’m just fussing a little. They’ll still be pretty for the services tomorrow,” she told him. “A thank-you to the church. I wanted to make sure they look their best. I didn’t have time to arrange them as well as I wanted this morning.”
He came up and put his arms around her, pulling her to rest against him. “I’ve got something for you.”
She leaned against him, luxuriating in this simple act of affection. “What would that be?”
He held her with one arm and fidgeted in his pocket. Then he pulled out a box and held it in front of her.
The box was small and beautifully wrapped. She sighed with pleasure. “Billy, it’s too pretty to open.”
“I’ll wrap it back up for you when you’re done. Open it.”
He had given her the requisite gifts on holidays, always generous and somehow impersonal. But spur-of-the-moment gifts had been as rare as words of affection.
She knew the box contained jewelry. The size indicated that. A bracelet, perhaps. She took her time savoring the moment. When the paper was neatly folded in her pocket, she opened the narrow box to reveal two smaller boxes. Ring boxes.
She opened the first and found a beautiful gold band in Japanese
mokume gane
style. She knew enough about jewelry to realize it had been carefully handcrafted. The metal was meticulously forged and layered of contrasting golds to appear finely grained, like wood.
“It’s beautiful.” The workmanship was exquisite. The ring was plain but extraordinarily unique.
“It’s mine,” Billy said. “Look in the other box.”
She turned to look at him. “Yours?”
“I’ve never had a wedding ring. I’m married, too.”
She didn’t know what to say. A week after their wedding day, he had put a narrow gold band on her finger, replaced years later with an ostentatious display of diamonds that she had never really warmed to. But Billy had never had a ring.
He reached around her and opened the other box. A matching ring was nestled there, but a shade narrower and sprinkled with tiny diamonds that were sunk deeply into the surface, like twinkling stars.
It was completely different from anything she’d seen before, and as she took the box from his hands, she fell in love with it immediately. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Marry me again.” He turned her to face him. “Right here and now. No minister, no guests. Our marriage should never have been about anybody else. Just put my ring on my finger, and I’ll do the same for you.”
“Billy, I’d marry you again anywhere. I’d marry you in a mud puddle in the middle of a rain forest.”
He smiled and reached for her ring as she slipped off her old ones. “We’ll talk about rain forests in a few minutes.”
Tessa heard the slam of a car door, then the toot of a horn. In a moment her mother walked in, minus her father.
“Where’s Dad?”
“I knew we’d all be too tired to make anything for supper, so I ordered dinner. He’s gone into town to pick it up. We’ll have another celebration. Where’s Mama? Napping?”
Helen came in from the kitchen. “I won’t sleep for a week. I’m all stirred up. I can barely remember my own name.” She headed straight for her favorite chair.
“You look tired,” Tessa told her mother. “You and Gram sit, and I’ll bring you some tea.”
Nancy flopped down on the sofa as Tessa left the room, and Tessa heard the thunk of shoes hitting the floor. She smiled, since that was exactly what Helen had done the moment she returned. The two women were more alike than they let on.
When she came back with the tea, Nancy was curled up with her feet under her. She did look tired, but as happy as Tessa had ever seen her.
Each woman took a glass and sighed after the first swallow. The new air conditioner was on. Helen herself—grumbling, of course—had turned it on when she arrived back home. The contrast to the temperature at church had been too much to bear.
“So what do you think, Mama?” Nancy asked. “Was it a good day?”
Tessa figured her mother might as well have drawn a bull’s-eye over her own heart, but Helen surprised her.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with all those people, spending their Labor Day weekend that way. But if somebody had to entertain them, I guess I’m just as glad it was me.”
As thank-yous went, it was a roaring success. Nancy beamed. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
“I still can’t figure out why that museum wants my quilts. They gave me an invitation to go down there and visit. Now how am I going to do that?”
“I’ll come up and we’ll go together. I’d love to see it myself.”
“Then you’re leaving? Soon?”
“Not right away,” Nancy said. “But I’m going to have to go back pretty soon. Billy and I are about to make some big changes.”
Since her mother was smiling, Tessa knew they couldn’t be too bad. “Like?”
Nancy set her tea on the end table. “We’re selling the house.”
For a moment Tessa couldn’t believe what she’d just heard. “No.” She paused. “It’s the market, isn’t it? Dad’s in trouble.”
“Dad’s as good at what he does as anybody in the world. No, it’s not the stock market. It’s just that neither of us wants the responsibility for keeping up with the house anymore. There are only two of us, and one of these days we might lose each other in all those rooms. I want something a lot smaller and easier to take care of. Maybe something north of the city, so we can bypass the worst traffic when we come to visit you, Mama.” She aimed the last at Helen.
Tessa was still trying to imagine life for her parents without the house that had been Nancy’s pride and joy. “I can’t visualize you living anywhere else.”
Nancy’s smile faltered. “Is this going to upset you, sweetheart? Did you expect to inherit the house and live there someday?”
“Lord no!” Tessa was horrified at the thought. “I mean, you’ve done wonderful things with it, and it’s a beautiful house. But it’s a museum.”
Nancy looked relieved. “Someone will be thrilled to have it. Someone with more pretensions than I have anymore. I want something that’s just big enough for the furniture we really love and my paintings. Something Sarah can clean all by herself whenever she feels like coming over. She’s been hinting she might want to retire pretty soon.”
“And Dad doesn’t care? It is his family home, and you entertained all the time for business.”
“He’s only too glad to sell it. But that brings up something else.” Nancy’s eyes danced. “Dad’s taking early retirement. He’s passing the reins to his associates.”
Selling the house. Taking retirement. Tessa felt like she was standing on shifting sands. “What in the world is he going to do?”
“Well, for once he’s going to do what he loves most. Travel. Hike. Canoe. Add birds to his life list. We’re going to Costa Rica for a long-delayed honeymoon. We’re going to work with a project that helps sea turtles for two weeks, then we’re going to explore on our own for another month. If you think we can be away from you that long, Mama?”
“I don’t want you hovering all over me, Nanny. Never asked for that. Something comes up, Tessa can handle it.”
“Your dad’s going to teach me to be a birder, Tessa,” Nancy finished. “Then, next trip, I’m taking
him
to Paris to spend two weeks at the Louvre, and Mama’s invited, too, if we can pry her away. And while I’m on a roll, I’ll just finish up and then be quiet. Your dad’s retiring, but I’m going to work. I’ve been offered a job at that gallery in Carytown I was telling you about. Among other things, I’ll be in charge of developing new displays every month or so. It’s been in the works for a while. I just got the real offer on Wednesday. I’ve been waiting to talk to your dad and see how he felt. It’s just part-time, and I’ll be able to take time off when I need to.”
“Dad was thrilled,” Tessa guessed out loud.
“He was delighted. He wants me to support him.” Nancy laughed, clearly pleased with herself.
“That’s a lot of changes,” Helen said. “A whole lot all at once.”
“Mama, we’re going to buy a house with a guest suite just for you.” She held up her hand to stop the protests. “Not for anything but visiting. I know you don’t want to live with me, but I want you to come and see me and stay whenever you feel like it. We can fix it up any way you want.”
Helen chewed her lip. “Nothing fancy?”
“Something plain and simple, with a room big enough for a quilt frame. I’ll even disconnect the air conditioner.”
“Don’t you dare.”
“I’m happy,” Nancy said. “It feels so good just to be happy.”
“I know how you feel,” Helen said. “Although I don’t want to put too fine a point on it, you understand.”
Mack wondered if everyone else at the table realized how unusual this gathering was. Unless they had gone to California to visit
his
mother, he and Tessa had gotten together with her parents and occasionally her grandmother for holidays and special occasions. But he couldn’t remember ever feeling this relaxed in their presence, or hearing so much laughter.
Tessa had taken him aside to tell him about all the changes coming up in her mother and father’s lives, and he had duly and genuinely admired their lovely new wedding rings. The food had been excellent, nobody had fussed over it, and once the meal had ended, the family had sat together on the front porch watching the final fireflies of a hot summer. As they sat there, a cooling breeze signaled the promise of autumn. Biscuit, who had been wildly excited to see him, was settled on the porch at his feet.
The stars came out in full measure, and eventually they simply sat quietly and admired them. When Helen finally announced she was calling it a day, Nancy and Billy went upstairs with her. Everyone was tired. Mack could see it in Tessa’s eyes. He felt it, too, and although he planned to stay the night, he had to leave for home early in the morning to make sure a client hadn’t been thrown out on the street despite the firm’s intervention.
“It’s been a remarkable day,” he said.
On the swing beside him, Tessa shifted to see him better. “In every way.”
“Who would have thought the summer would turn out like this?”
“Not me.”
He hated to spoil the mood, had even considered ignoring his best impulses. But he knew he would regret it if he didn’t tell Tessa the truth. He shifted, too, so he was looking right at her. “I don’t want to inject tension into a beautiful evening, but I have to talk to you about something.”
She was silent a moment, as if debating whether to object. “It’s about Robert, isn’t it?”
“Barry, the investigator, recommends we go to twice-a-week surveillance. Partly because he thinks that’s all we need. Partly because he’s going away for a month and his staff will be stretched thin without him. Partly because in the nearly three weeks they’ve been on the job, no one has seen a thing that would send Owens back to jail.”
“Twice a week?”
Biscuit sensed the change in Tessa’s tone and sat up, head cocked. Mack patted her head until she flopped at his feet again. Then he forced himself to keep his voice low and calm.
“As a matter of fact, he suggested once a week, but I knew you’d never buy it.”
“Maybe we’re not paying him enough.”
“It’s not the money. He says if Owens falls off the wagon, they’ll find out, even if they only monitor him occasionally. He’ll start drinking in earnest, and he’ll get careless. It’ll be simple then. Or he won’t drink, he’ll continue living up to the probation agreement, and he won’t need monitoring anyway.”
“You don’t get it, do you?” Her voice was low, but the anger was clear. “It’s not just about sending him back to jail. I want to catch him before he hurts somebody else. This way, months could pass before we’re sure he’s breaking the law, and on one of those nights when we’re not watching, he could kill again.”
“Are you planning to monitor the boy for the rest of his life? At what point do you just accept that he’s doing his best to stay sober and live up to the agreement he made?”
“Never. And certainly not now.” She was struggling to stay calm, but the lines of tension were back. She was pale. “Is this what you planned all along, Mack? To wean me away from following him? Convince me to let someone else do it, then gradually decrease the nights?”
What had he hoped? He wasn’t sure now. He tried to be honest. “I thought either we’d catch him in the act right away or your need to follow him would wane. But I never planned to wean you from anything. I just hoped you’d see the light.”