A Single Thread (Cobbled Court)

by Marie Bostwick

  “I know. That’s why I need to leave right now. Don’t worry,” Liza said. “We’ll be back in time. Garrett is a really fast driver.” She turned around and dashed down the street in the direction of the quilt shop, leaping over puddles as she went.

  “Liza!” I called after her. “That’s not funny! You tell Garrett to drive responsibly!” She didn’t turn around, just raised her hand up over her shoulder and wiggled her fingers in farewell. I couldn’t see her face, but I knew she was smiling.

  “Well, I guess that just leaves you and me,” Franklin said, hooking his arm into mine. “Come on, Mother Hen. I’ll take you out to lunch.”

  “Actually, Franklin, I’ve got to run too. There’s so much to do before tonight. I can’t leave it all to Margot. It wouldn’t be fair. “

  “But I was hoping to get a chance to talk with you. I’ve got some…some business I wanted to discuss with you.”

  “Tonight,” I promised. “After the party. Are you still going to the Grill? Ask Charlie if he could send over a tray of the spring rolls. And some of the nori salmon rolls too.” Following Liza’s lead, I turned around and headed toward the quilt shop, trying to run between raindrops.

  “But, Abbie, you’ve got to eat something. Just let me buy you a quick lunch. We were supposed to be celebrating.”

  “We are celebrating,” I called over my shoulder. “We’re celebrating Evelyn’s recovery. Oh, I almost forgot! Tell Charlie I’ll need a half case of his best champagne as well. He can put everything on my tab. See you tonight, Franklin. Don’t be late.”

  33

  Evelyn Dixon

  It was seven o’clock on a rainy Wednesday in late winter, too late for Christmas shoppers and too early for tourists. All the downtown shops, including mine, had shut out their lights and locked their doors.

  Rob had left his keys and his cell phone inside the locked shop. I was tired and just wanted to get back to Margot’s and told Rob he could drop me off and then borrow my keys, but he absolutely insisted that we retrieve his phone before he took me to Margot’s. The whole thing was ridiculous, but he’d already had a rotten day. I didn’t want to make it worse by arguing.

  Walking in the dim light while groping in my purse for the shop key, I tripped on a loose cobble and stumbled. Rob reached out in time to keep me from falling.

  “Careful!”

  “Thanks,” I mumbled and pulled away. In light of our conversation between the doctor’s office and the shop, it felt awkward to have him touch me.

  I hadn’t asked or wanted Rob to come to New Bern, but even I had to admit he’d been a big help: stocking shelves, installing the new display cabinets, fixing broken machines, and running errands, like offering to take me to the doctor’s appointment today. Still, he’d been around for weeks. It was time for him to go home.

  I was feeling better, so much so that in the morning I was going to start working half days in the shop, building up my schedule until I was working full-time again, and not a minute too soon. I was anxious to get back to work and into my apartment. Stairs were no problem now. I’d have moved out of Margot’s guest room and back home a week before, but Rob was still there. Leave of absence or no, wasn’t it time he went back to work? And what about Tina? Wasn’t she wondering why he was in New Bern with his ex-wife instead of back in Texas with her?

  It was a strange situation. I had considered asking Garrett to inquire when Rob was planning on leaving, but I didn’t want to put him in the middle. I knew I’d have to talk to Rob myself.

  And so, as we drove back from Dr. Finney’s office, I finally broached the subject. It wasn’t an easy conversation. Almost as soon as I hinted that it might be time for him to go, Rob started crying! I didn’t know what to think! My big, former football player, wannabe cowboy of an ex-husband was crying so hard that he had to pull the car over to the side of the road while he sobbed out the whole story.

  It turned out that, right after I’d called to tell him about my cancer, Tina decided to move out. She told him she was in love with someone else, someone younger and more “fun.” And then the next week, he’d lost his job.

  A few months before, I’d have danced a jig to hear Rob’s tale of misfortune and woe, but I didn’t feel that way anymore. I wasn’t interested in exacting revenge or placing blame. Mary Dell had reminded me that, even in the midst of tragedy, it is possible to find unexpected blessings. Mine had been exactly this, a newfound ability to let go of the past and the bitterness I’d harbored toward Rob. Life was just too short to spend it nursing old wounds. It was true; I didn’t love Rob anymore, but neither did I hate him.

  We sat there by the side of the road with the engine idling and the windshield wipers going full blast while Rob told me how miserable he was. He’d managed to find a new job, and was supposed to start at the first of the month, but it was in an industry he didn’t know much about. “I still can’t believe that they just let me go after all these years. I gave my heart and soul to that company!”

  And he had. I could certainly attest to that, but it wasn’t worth mentioning now. “Are you worried about money?”

  “No. The salary is fine, actually a little more than what I was making before; it’s not that.”

  “Well, then what is it?”

  He paused, thinking for a moment. “I’m scared. Evie, for the first time in my life, I’m really scared. I can’t believe that, at my age, I’ve got to start all over again. I’m not sure I’ve got it in me. And worse than that, I just feel…” He clutched the steering wheel tight and dropped his head while he searched for the right word. “Adrift, I guess. That’s it. It’s like I woke up to find myself sitting in a boat in the middle of the ocean. I’ve got no sail, no oars, and no idea where I am. I don’t know who I’m supposed to be now.”

  “And so you decided to come back to what was familiar—to a time when you knew who you were?”

  He nodded. “Evie, it was a mistake. The divorce, I mean. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I understand now what I put you through. And I’m just so sorry. When you called that night and I thought about how I would feel if anything happened to you…I think that’s when I really started to realize what I’d done.”

  He shifted in the seat, turning so he could look at me fully. “I was planning on coming up here anyway, at least for the surgery. I honestly wanted to make sure you were going to be okay, but when all this other stuff started piling on…Yes, I came hoping we could get back together. I’d like things to be the way they were before.”

  We talked for a long time. I told him the truth; that everything had changed. I had changed, and so had he. We would always be linked by our child and our memories, but we could never go back to the way things were. And though I didn’t say so to Rob, I realized I didn’t want to go back.

  Rob stared vacantly out the front windshield though it was impossible to see anything through the rain and fog that clouded the glass. “I guess I can’t blame you, Evie. I’ll pack my stuff and go in the morning. But I just want you to know I meant what I said. I’m sorry for everything. I don’t expect you to forgive me.”

  And to my surprise I said quietly, “Rob, I do forgive you. This isn’t just your fault, you know. There were things we both could have done differently. I’m sorry too.”

  “Well, maybe, but when the going got tough, I was the one who called a lawyer, not you.” I didn’t say anything to that.

  “I just wish there was some way I could make it up to you.” He pushed his fingers up through his hair in a gesture of fatigue and futility. “That’s crazy, I know. Some things you can never make up for, but Evie, if you ever need anything, anything at all, I want you to know that you can call me. I mean it. I know we can’t go back to what we were before, but maybe we can try something new. Maybe we can be friends?”

  Standing in the dark courtyard and finally finding the key to the shop, I wondered if Rob and I could be friends. After all, that’s how we’d started out in the first place. Poor Rob. In spite of
all that had happened, I didn’t like seeing him hurting. He looked so pitiful standing there in the rain. Of course, I probably didn’t look any better, but still. I sighed as I slid the key into the lock.

  “Are you all right?” Rob asked and put his hand on my sleeve, his voice concerned. “Do you need to sit down?”

  “No. I’m fine, just a little tired. That’s all.”

  The safety bolt clicked over as I turned the key. I pushed open the door of the darkened shop and jumped, shocked to my toes when a score of shadowy figures leaped from behind counters and cabinets and bolts of cloth, shouting.

  “SURPRISE!”

  And it was—a complete and utterly lovely surprise. Nearly everyone I knew was there, and it was astounding to realize how many people I’d met and made friends with in less than two years. Besides Garrett, Rob, Abigail, Margot, Liza, and Franklin Spaulding, at least a dozen of my best customers had shown up, plus most of the other business owners in New Bern, and several people I’d met at church, including the pastor and his wife, whom I’d gotten to know better when they’d come to visit me in the hospital. And Charlie, who was standing at the buffet table on the other side of the room. He looked at me and smiled when I came in, then turned his attention to arranging spring rolls on a tray.

  It took me a good fifteen minutes to work my way through the crowd of congratulants, thanking everyone for coming and assuring them over and over that I had been well and truly surprised, until I finally got over to the table where Charlie was fussing over the food with a stormy look on his face.

  Charlie put as much care into his food as I did into my quilts. He insisted that every dish be plated just so, every ingredient the absolutely freshest available, and every recipe prepared with minute attention to detail. If it wasn’t, he was not a happy camper and utterly unable to conceal it, his discontent clearly visible on his face, like now.

  I picked up a spring roll and dunked it into a sauce that was pungent with the aroma of soy, sesame, and ginger and put it in my mouth. The delicate, golden crust of the spring roll crunched as I took a bite.

  “Mmmm. Delicious as always.”

  He grunted but didn’t look up as he took a service napkin and carefully wiped off the edge of the tray where someone, probably me, had carelessly dripped some of the sauce.

  “Charlie,” I said, reaching out to stay his hand and smiling. “Lighten up. Everything looks wonderful. Why don’t you leave it for now and join the party? Garrett said something about opening a bottle of champagne. Let me get you a glass. Tonight you’re a guest, not the caterer.”

  With his eyes still down, Charlie gave his head a quick shake, like he was twitching away some annoying insect. “You’re wrong. Abigail is paying for this.”

  “Oh. Well, still. Everything looks and tastes fabulous. Leave it. Relax and let me buy you a drink.”

  “No. Can’t stay. Just came over to do my job, see that everything is set out properly, and then I’ve got to get back to the restaurant. I’ve a business to run.” He frowned as he put grilled shrimp onto stripped rosemary skewers and then shoved the skewers into a styrofoam cone covered with more rosemary to make it look like an herbal topiary.

  “Oh, come on,” I scoffed, wondering what was bothering him. This was more than just Charlie’s usual obsession with serving perfect food. He stabbed the shrimp on their skewers with a violence that, had they been alive, would have constituted cruelty to animals. “It’s a Wednesday night in the deadest part of winter. Half your regulars are at this party. I’d be shocked if you have more than six customers at the Grill. Stay for a little while, Charlie. You look like you could use a night off,” I teased, hoping to jolly him out of his bad mood.

  He stuck the last skewers in the rosemary tree. “I can’t.” He wiped his hand on a towel, stuck it out for me to shake, and said formally, “Good night, Evelyn.”

  “Charlie, you can’t leave! The party is just starting, and we’ve got so much to celebrate! I saw the doctor today and guess what? No chemo for me! Isn’t that great news?”

  For the first time that evening, he looked at me. His expression softened, and his eyes were kind, but sad. “That’s great, Evelyn. Really. I’m happy for you. So happy that you’re well, but I really do have to go.” He gave my hand a quick squeeze and then turned to leave, disappearing in the throng of partygoers.

  “Hey!” I called after him. “I’m coming back to work tomorrow. Do you want to meet at the Bean for coffee first?”

  He didn’t answer. I saw him turn up his coat collar and open the door to leave, the jingle of the front doorbell blending in with the laughter of guests.

  Abigail approached the table, took a salmon roll off a tray, and nibbled at it delicately. She was smiling, relaxed, and just a tiny bit loud. Garrett must have started pouring the champagne.

  “Did you try one of these? They’re my favorite. Charlie is a genius.”

  “He is. Difficult, but a genius.”

  “Well then, that makes him just our kind of people, doesn’t it?” Abigail laughed at her own joke, but when I didn’t join in her brows drew together in a line of concern.

  “What’s the matter? Aren’t you having a good time? Maybe this is too much for you. Would you like to go lie down somewhere?”

  “No. I’m fine. It’s a wonderful party, Abigail. Thank you so much for going to all this trouble. I’m having a lovely time. It’s just that I’m worried about Charlie. Something’s bothering him, but he won’t tell me what it is.”

  Abigail waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, don’t worry about it. Charlie’s probably just in one of his moods. Maybe his sous-chef decided to quit, or his supplier raised the price of free-range chicken.” She shrugged. “Who knows? He’ll be fine by tomorrow.”

  “I don’t know. I’ve seen how he gets when things aren’t going well at the restaurant, but this wasn’t like that. He seemed sad. A little depressed even.”

  Abigail’s head tipped to the side. “Evelyn, I’ve known Charlie for twenty years. You’ve known him for one. He’s fine. He’s just a little complicated, that’s all. Trust me.”

  I murmured noncommittally.

  “If you’re so worried, why don’t you go see him tomorrow? In the meantime, come and join the party.”

  Someone walked by with a tray of champagne glasses. Abigail took two and handed one to me. “To your health,” she said, raising her glass.

  I smiled and touched the rim of my glass to her. “To my health.”

  Most of the revelers left by ten, but a few stayed to help clean up. Rob, more helpful than he’d ever been during our marriage, carried the leftover food upstairs to the apartment and was in the kitchen with Wendy Perkins and Franklin, doing dishes and wrapping up the leftovers. I could hear them above us, Franklin’s shuffling footsteps, Wendy’s muffled snort-snort as she laughed at her own jokes, and the decisive clunk of Rob’s cowboy boots as he walked over my head.

  Garrett, Margot, Liza, Abigail, and I stayed downstairs to clean up, wiping down the tables, throwing away used plates and napkins, and rounding up the stray champagne glasses that seemed to have been abandoned on nearly every flat surface. Someone had even left one on top of the crown molding that encased the bowfront window. It must have been a good party. How had thirty-five party guests managed to go through ninety champagne glasses?

  The place was a mess, but many hands made light work and soon everything was tidy again. I turned in a circle to look at the shop, my shop, and hugged myself.

  “Thank you!” I said. “Thank you all so much. I can’t imagine how I could ever repay you, but I want you to know that if I ever have the chance, I’ll try.”

  “It was a nice party, wasn’t it?” Margot said with a smile, her eyes sparkling. “Everyone had a good time.”

  “Yes, but I’m not just talking about the party. I’m talking about everything.” I spread my arms wide. “I’m talking about this! Cobbled Court Quilts. My dream come true!

  “Back when I first opene
d, Charlie told me I needed to think out of the box, to dream about what I truly wanted the shop to be, and this—this is exactly what I imagined. Something more than a quilt shop. A community, a neighborhood, where people would come together to quilt, and create, and learn, and heal, and take risks. This is what I wanted!”

  I laughed with pleasure, so delighted with everything I saw around me that unexpected tears started in my eyes. “And none of it would have happened without all of you. I wanted to open a quilt shop that would help others find all those wonderful things, but I never realized that I’d find them for myself as well. Thank you,” I repeated, looking into the faces of my precious son and three dear friends.

  The sparkle in Margot’s eyes faded, and I saw her bite her lower lip the way she always did when she was trying to figure out how to say something she didn’t want to say. I held up my hand to stop her.

  “Margot, it’s all right. I’ve seen the cash-flow statements. I know. I’m going to have to close the shop.”

  Ever since I’d asked Margot to bring the books over to her house so I could look at them three days before, I’d known it was over. This was just the first time I’d actually said it out loud, to myself or anyone else. I took a deep breath, composing myself.

  “But it’s okay. I want you all to know that. Of course, I wanted the shop to succeed, and, in every way but financially, it did.

  “In a few months, this place will be empty. With two failed businesses to its credit, this wonderful, improbable old building in this terrible, beautiful location will probably be abandoned forever. Cobwebs will gather in the corners, the paint on the windowsills will chip, and the plumbing will spring leaks. Maybe someone will knock it down to make way for something newer and more practical, a parking lot or a stack of office cubicles. That would be sad, but even if that happens, all of us and everyone who walked through those doors will remember that, for a little while at least, there was a remarkable little community of people who found something simple and genuine here, and it gave their lives a little bit more joy.” I blinked back the tears. I wanted to get through it, wanted them to hear me out.