The Calico Heart

by Patricia Kiyono

  "Not tonight," Sylvia said. She finger-combed her thick, black hair, lifting it off her neck. "Boy, it sure is hot this evening."

  "Supposed to get hotter the rest of the week, too," Ellen commented as she and Sue pulled their chairs closer.

  "Well, you know what they say," Lila said. "It’s not the heat, it’s..."

  "The humidity," her friends answered in unison.

  "And we’ve got plenty of that, too." Sylvia commented.

  "What are you working on tonight?" Sue pointed to the pale blue squares Sylvia had pulled from her tote.

  "I need to finish the baby quilt I’m making for Lynne..."

  "Lynne is expecting?" Lila exclaimed. "Why didn’t you tell us before tonight?"

  "Congratulations!" Ellen and Sue chimed.

  "No, no!" Sylvia laughed. "I’m not going to be a grandma quite yet. This is for one of her co-workers. Lynne started it but just hasn’t had time to work on it, so I said I’d finish it for her."

  "What about your travel quilt?" Ellen asked. "I thought you’d be eager to start on it now that you have the money for your trip."

  "This needs to be done first," Sylvia replied. "The baby is due in September. Besides, I don’t think I’m going to need the travel quilt for a while yet."

  "Why not?"

  "It’s Dave... of course." Sylvia sighed and pulled out her needle and thread. "I can’t believe him. He’s like a totally different person from the man I married."

  Sylvia muttered as she tried to thread her needle. The blasted thread refused to cooperate, and she missed the eye for the third time. Her friends murmured sympathetically then bent to their work. Sylvia again tried without success to thread her needle. Frustrated, she jabbed it into her pile of fabric and threw her hands in the air in disgust.

  Ellen reached over and calmly picked up the needle and thread. She looped the length of thread, slipped it through the needle’s eye then handed it back to her friend and said, "Here. Quilt. It will make you feel better."

  Sylvia nodded and began to applique the colorful boats Lynne had already prepared on the pale blue backing. After a few moments, the rhythmic in-and-out motion of the needle soothed the tension from her muscles. Sylvia crossed her ankles and relaxed in her chair, losing herself in the simple pleasure of her craft.

  "Sylvia?"

  She looked up to find Lila studying her, a concerned look on her face.

  "Remember the conversation we had a few weeks ago about Dave?" the older woman asked.

  "Yes, and you were right," Sylvia said. "I know Dave still worries about the money we spent on Lynne’s wedding. But that’s not the problem, Lila. We already had a nice amount set aside – ear-marked for each of the kids’ college and weddings – and I stayed pretty much within our budget."

  She stopped and bit her lip, forcing back the angry tears suddenly blurring her vision. "This trip wouldn’t affect our finances, Lila. I made this money with my tutoring. It’s all extra money. Not part of our household budget. I just don’t understand Dave’s attitude or why he’s being so stubborn. And he refuses to discuss it.

  "I really wanted this trip," she finished, brushing aside a tear.

  Lilac patted her hand and gave her a gentle smile.

  "I’m sorry," Sylvia apologized. "I know that sounds spoiled, and I should be grateful I have—"

  "Nonsense, my dear," Lila interrupted. "You aren’t being selfish at all. You know, Marvin never liked to travel, but I did. When we retired, he often preferred to stay home, but he encouraged me to go places without him. I found this group — Traveling Solo, it’s called — that specialized in bus trips for singles. Not necessarily people who are widowed or unmarried, just people who travel alone for whatever their reasons. I had lots of fun and made so many lovely friends. We had some funny adventures, too. Things I might not have had if Marvin had come along," she confided with an impish grin.

  "Really?" Tee looked up from her dinosaur quilt. "Tell us."

  "Perhaps another time, dear. Right now, we need to concentrate on Sylvia’s problem. Do you have any friends you can travel with?"

  "Not really. Most of them have families at home, or they still have jobs."

  "Then you need to contact my singles group," Lila said as if the matter were decided.

  Sylvia’s first reaction was to disagree. After all, she wasn’t single; she had a husband, a husband she loved. Still, Lila had a point. If Dave refused to go anywhere, why should that stop her from following her dreams? If she didn’t have to worry about trying to find a destination Dave would like, she could go literally anywhere she wanted. The options were endless.

  Shoot, she could even go to see the penguin migration if she wanted.

  Chapter Ten

  "C’mon, Sylvia, either call the number or throw it away!"

  Sylvia looked at the piece of paper sitting on her kitchen table and frowned. She’d already spent most of the morning sitting and staring at the seven digits written on it in Lila’s somewhat shaky handwriting. She took a sip of her coffee and scolded herself for being so indecisive. Acting this wishy-washy was totally out of character for her. It was almost as if someone had taken over her body like in those bad sci-fi movies she hated. But then, lately, her life had seemed to resemble a bad sci-fi, one where the main characters seemed vaguely familiar but she wasn’t quite able to name them.

  No more. It was time to make a decision. She dragged the bulky, old-fashioned phone from the kitchen counter and set it in the middle of the table. After one last fortifying sip of coffee, Sylvia reached for the receiver. Just then, the phone suddenly emitted a shrill ring. Startled, she jerked back her hand as if she’d been attacked. But the phone merely rang a second time. Chuckling at her foolishness, she picked up the receiver and said hello.

  "What’s so funny?"

  "Oh! Hi, Dave." Embarrassed to have been caught in her foolishness, she ignored his question. "What’s up?"

  "Just calling to tell you I just got scheduled into a late afternoon meeting. One of our corporate clients is coming in, and Roger wants all hands on deck. We’ll probably go out to dinner, too. So it will probably be a late night."

  "No problem. Lila asked me to go with her to a meeting tonight, so this will work out fine."

  "Another quilting group?"

  "No..." Sylvia crossed her fingers then plunged ahead. "It’s a group for people who travel alone. Lila’s been a member for a number of years now. She thought I might like to check it out."

  Silence. Sylvia could almost feel ice crystal forming on the receiver.

  "I mean, Lila knows you’re busy at work and can’t really travel right now," Sylvia rushed on, trying to fill the cold silence. "She thought I might like the group."

  "I see," Dave replied. "Well, I guess I didn’t need to worry about you being alone this evening since you already had plans."

  "It wasn’t like that. I hadn’t decided—"

  "Have a good time, Sylvia," he continued over her objections. "Talk to you later."

  Sylvia frowned and hung up the phone, uncertain what to make of the odd conversation. Had Dave been irritated or relieved to learn of her plans? His words could have meant either. She shrugged. He had no right to be upset. After all, he’d been the one to suggest she go on a trip by herself.

  "If he didn’t mean it, he shouldn’t have said it," she told the empty room then picked up the phone to call the number on Lila’s paper.

  ****

  "Welcome, welcome," a curvy brunette greeted when Sylvia arrived at the office of Traveling Solo that evening. "You must be new to the group. I’m Deanna, one of the tour directors."

  "I’m Sylvia. My friend, Lila Haggerty, told me about your group, but she couldn’t come with me this evening."

  Deanna nodded and waved her toward a large conference room. "Any friend of Lila’s is definitely welcome here. Please, make yourself at home while we wait for the others to arrive. There are plenty of drinks and refreshments. Get yourself something to eat and
mingle a bit. That’s what we’re about here."

  Sylvia didn’t feel much like eating or socializing, but she went inside. Small clusters of people stood around, chatting easily, but Sylvia noticed there were also plenty of singles, both female and male, sitting by themselves. Some of them read, some did various types of needlework, and others just sat and looked around the room. She found a seat at the end of a row and settled in to wait for the meeting to start.

  "Sylvia Miller? Is that you?"

  Sylvia looked up at the sound of her name. A pleasantly plump woman headed in her direction, holding out her arms in greeting. Sylvia smiled and hurried to greet her former co-worker. Marcia Ames had retired from Grand Valley the previous year, and Sylvia hadn’t seen her since.

  "What a wonderful surprise. It’s so good to see you, Marcia. What are you doing here?"

  "I could ask the same," the woman said, dropping her purse on the chair next to Sylvia’s then taking her by the arm. "But first, let’s grab some refreshments — at my age, I never turn down an opportunity for free cake."

  Arm in arm, they crossed the room, stopping to greet some of Marcia’s friends. The woman seemed to know everyone they encountered and introduced so many people that Sylvia soon gave up trying to keep them all straight. But they were a cordial group, and Sylvia soon forgot her awkwardness at being there by herself. When they returned to their seats with their refreshments — a glass of tea for Sylvia and a piece of chocolate cake and coffee for Marcia — the two women settled in to catch up.

  Marcia explained that her husband Eric had suffered a stroke shortly after retiring. Afterwards, he’d needed daily therapy and more care than she could have given, but Marcia hadn’t wanted to put him in a nursing home. So, they’d sold their home and moved into a retirement community. It was the best of both worlds. They had their own apartment, but the facility also provided on-site therapy for those who needed it. In addition to the therapy room, there was also a gym and pool for all the residents to use. They were happy with the arrangement, but Eric knew how much Marcia loved to travel, so he encouraged her to take some little excursions without him. That was how she’d signed up with Traveling Solo.

  "I’ve only made a couple of day trips with the group," Marcia confided, "but I never miss one of these monthly meetings. Everyone is so darned nice, and picking a destination for the next excursion is always a lot of fun."

  "Where’s the next one going?"

  Marcia smiled happily and sat back in her seat. "Mackinac Island," she answered. "Can you imagine anywhere more perfect?"

  Chapter Eleven

  "— then bake for 45 minutes," Lynne repeated. "Okay, that sounds easy, even for me."

  Sylvia could imagine her daughter sitting at the table in the breakfast nook of her Heritage Hills home, with the phone on speaker mode so she could write down the instructions. "I should have done this before your wedding, Lynne. I could have run off copies of my recipe cards on the printer and saved you all the writing."

  Lynne’s laugh floated from the phone. "Are you kidding, Mom? You know how Ron loves your cooking. If I’d had your recipes, he would have expected me to cook every night. This way, it’s always a treat when I make one of your specialties."

  "You wouldn’t have had to tell him."

  "Mom!" Her daughter gasped in mock horror. "Are you suggesting I keep secrets from my sweet husband?"

  Sylvia thought about that for all of a second. "No. It wouldn’t have worked anyway. You never could keep secrets."

  "I know. It’s why you always took me Christmas shopping at the last moment. That way, there was at least a chance I might not spill the beans and tell Dad and the boys what I got them."

  "Exactly! So how are you going to manage it this year?

  "You mean you won’t take me anymore?" Lynne pretended to sigh.

  "I doubt you really want me to come along while you pick out Ron’s sock and briefs."

  "Boxers, Mom."

  "T.M.I!" Sylvia laughed in the phone, enjoying the back-and-forth banter she and her daughter always shared.

  "Like you haven’t been washing men’s underwear for more than a quarter of a century now."

  "A quarter of a century? Good grief! That makes your father and me sound ancient."

  "I refuse to comment," Lynne remarked then turned to a different subject. "What are you and Dad doing on Labor Day?"

  "We really don’t have anything much going on over the holiday. Since your brothers have made plans with some friends and aren’t coming home, and you and Ron are heading to his folks’ place, Dad and I will probably grill a couple of steaks."

  "You should come with us. Mr. and Mrs. Cross have plenty of room."

  "Can’t, honey. Davis Andrew always has their company picnic on the Saturday before Labor Day, remember? That’s the one thing we do have on our calendar for the weekend."

  Lynne groaned. "How could I forget? It’s always such a bundle of laughs. Forty-some bean counters arguing about the fastest route for the three-legged race."

  "It’s not that bad. Besides, your father is one of those bean counters."

  "Isn’t he ever going to retire?" Lynne asked. "I thought the two of you were going to do it at the same time, so you could travel and—"

  "That was the plan, but there are a few bills we wanted to pay off first. Maybe he’ll retire the end of the year. Or next spring."

  "Are they bills from my wedding? Is that why Daddy doesn’t feel like he can retire? Did you have to start tutoring to pay off my wedding?"

  "No, no, not at all." Sylvia hurried to reassure her youngest. "We had money set aside for that, honey. It’s just your father. You know how he is. He has his annual review coming up in the fall, so he wants to stay and take advantage of any pay increase."

  "What about the tutoring?" Lynne asked, unconvinced.

  "That doesn’t go in the household budget." Sylvia took a breath, debating how much to reveal. Finally, she just plunged in. "That’s extra money. My money. I’ve always wanted to travel, and, since Daddy won’t retire for several more months, I decided to take some trips on my own."

  "Mom, that’s wonderful. Have you decided where you want to go? Will you drive or take the train or what?"

  "Actually, I found a group that travels together. There are folks who are single, widowed, or divorced; but there are also married people whose spouses can’t travel with them. Lila Haggerty told me about them. She’s gone on several of their trips.

  "I went to their meeting the other night and met some of the people. They’re really friendly. And I ran into another professor from Grand Valley who retired a year ago and travels with the group, too."

  "That sounds perfect. I hope you’re planning to join them."

  "I’m thinking about it, but I wasn’t sure how you kids would feel about me traveling with a singles’ group."

  "I think it’s wonderful. Not that you need our permission or anything. And, as for my brothers, well—" Lynne sighed and Sylvia could imagine her rolling her eyes. "Those two stud muffins are so busy playing Chi-Town's most eligible bachelors that they don’t have time to think about anything more serious than what club to visit next."

  Chapter Twelve

  On Saturday, Dave nursed his cold beer and tended one of six barbeque grills at the Davis Andrew company picnic. He and the other managers had already cooked dozens of burgers and hot dogs and at least a small flock of chickens, but people were still arriving and the food line seemed to never get shorter. He and a handful of other volunteers continued cooking so younger team members could join their families and dine at one of the tables in the pavilion or on blankets spread on the sprawling park lawn. Grilling was hot work, especially on such a humid day, but Dave preferred holding a barbeque fork to having to make small talk.

  It was different for Sylvia. She loved socializing and had a gift for making those around her feel comfortable. She didn’t recognize that about herself, though. She always claimed to be an introvert. But his wife co
uld strike up a conversation with a perfect stranger and talk about almost any subject. Dave struggled with that sort of thing. Even around friends, if conversation lagged, he had a hard time knowing what to say to fill the gap. He was much more comfortable with his nose buried in a newspaper or one of his spreadsheets than trying to act like a genial host.

  Wondering how much longer he’d need to make like a grill master, he took a sip of his cold beer and managed to sneak a peek at his watch in the process. Could it really be only ten minutes since the last time he’d checked, or had his watch stopped? He shrugged and flipped a couple pieces of chicken that looked almost done. At least, manning the grill gave him something to do.

  The picnic area was filled with employees and their families, eating or visiting with friends on this final long weekend of the summer. A group of energetic high school boys tossed around a plastic disk near the pond, trying to impress a group of girls, who tried to act like they hadn’t noticed. It wasn’t that long ago that his three would have been out there, too. He missed having them at the picnic even though they’d long outgrown the competitions put on by the planning committee. But he and the boys always enjoyed discussing sports. They’d been avid Tiger fans all their lives, cheering for their team no matter how good or bad the season had been. If living in Chicago caused them to move their allegiance to the Cubs, it would make for some pretty heated discussions when they came home for the holidays. On the other hand, Lynne had never supported any one team. For as long as he could remember, his daughter had always cheered for whatever team was the underdog in a game.

  His gaze moved past the families and the teenagers to the spot near the ball diamond where Sylvia sat on a picnic blanket, watching the softball game some of the young singles had organized. In denim shorts and a white t-shirt, with her dark hair tied back with a scarf, she looked as slender and youthful as anyone on the field. Some of the players most have thought the same thing, because two of the young guys suddenly waved an invitation to Sylvia to join the game. Even though his wife laughed and shook her head, declining the invitation, Dave’s jaw tensed and his fist tightened on the barbeque fork. He didn’t relax again until he saw the two men turn back to the game.