by Nancy Fraser
“Nothing, really. Ailey leaving changed things. I usually clean the shop on Sunday afternoons, but the Klatchers did that last night. I’ll probably bake.”
“Why do you sell pastries in a quilt shop? I never did ask that. Not that I’m complaining, but the two things don’t seem to match up.”
“I found the pastry case in the shop storage room and I’d already planned to make coffee and tea available to shoppers. I was alone so much of the time with Ailey in college in Michigan, and baking gave me something to do when I wasn’t at the shop.”
He frowned. “You could have had a social life.”
“That wasn’t something I wanted. An experience like mine with Roger doesn’t have to ruin your life. It didn’t ruin mine, but it did change things irrevocably. Other than you, I’ve never completely trusted another man. No one but you has ever spent the night in my house. Ailey never had any ‘uncles’ other than a few from long-term relationships my mam had.”
“Are you saying you’ve never—”
“No. I’ve had...friends. I’ve even been in serious like a time or two. What I’m saying is that what you experience when you’re young affects what you experience later on—or at least how you experience it. I haven’t had an ecstatic adult life, Jed, but I haven’t had an unhappy one, either.”
They walked to the door together. He took her in his arms to kiss her goodbye, thinking very little in life had ever felt as good as holding her. “I’m driving to the coast today,” he said, “to take some lighthouse pictures. Do you want to go?”
“I’d love that. I haven’t been to the coast since I came back to Dickens. But I have to work tomorrow.”
“No worries. I’ll pick you up at noon.”
He ran errands that morning, including coffee at Dorrit’s with a friend from school he’d talked to the night before. Back at the camp, he called Mark and Lacey to check in and arranged to have brunch delivered to his parents’ house so his mother wouldn’t feel as if she had to cook after church.
In the cottage, he took the cardinal ornament out of the bag Mrs. Withers had placed it in, remembering walking on a rocky coast beach with Fee all those years ago. They’d gone there before he left Dickens, spending the day talking and making plans for futures without each other. Not that being apart had been their intent, but that was the way it had worked out. The day had been gloomy and gray and they’d sat quiet for a while, leaning against a rock worn smooth by the pounding sea.
“Oh, look.” Fee had sat up straight, pointing at a cardinal swooping through the air so close they could see the marks on his feathers. “My mom says cardinals mean good luck, loyalty, and love.”
Jed didn’t think it had worked out that way for Fee, but it had lent cheer to the rest of the day.
He rewrapped the bird in the shop’s sparkly tissue paper and put it back into the bag. You couldn’t erase twenty years with an ornament from a tea shop.
No sooner had the thought crossed his mind than he was shaking his head at himself. He wouldn’t want to undo those years. Erasure would negate his marriage to Heather, take his stepsons out of his life. He knew Fee wouldn’t undo them, either.
He’d thought at first and again the night before that he still loved her, but that wasn’t true. They were not the people they were before.
But when he set the bag down, he left it where he could get to it easily.
Chapter 5
FEE TALKED TO THE KITTENS as she fed them before work each morning. She’d only slept a few hours after the idyllic day on the coast, and not that many the night before, but she still felt...revived. “We saw cardinals again, just like we did when we were kids.” She grinned at Mistletoe’s serious expression. “You’ll eventually feel a lot different about bright red birds than I do, but you’re not going to be able to act on those feelings. We’ll talk about it when the time comes.” She picked him up, snuggling him. “Feelings are important, but you can’t let them run your life.”
She believed that, but she’d had a wonderful couple of days acting on feelings. She’d thought, when she woke with Jed beside her, that she felt just as she had when they were kids. But she’d been wrong.
It was more.
She walked to work, loving the crisp coldness of the day. She was anxious to see how the store had done during the open hours after the tree-lighting. Although she’d remained cautiously optimistic about the business all the time she’d been open, she knew holidays were important times for revenue. If December didn’t go well, chances were good she wouldn’t make it through the following year.
“What will you do if it doesn’t work?” Her mother, who never practiced caution in her own life, hadn’t wanted her to come back east, to act on the quilt shop dream that kept her going through the years of working in factories and waiting on tables—sometimes both in the same days.
But her mother had been there in Fee’s Michigan kitchen when Ailey had looked out the window over the table and said, “Look, Maimeó, a cardinal. Mom says they’re lucky and they stand for loyalty and something else. What is it, Mom?”
“Love,” Kate had said softly, her eyes shining over, and she’d pulled Fee into a hug. “Go and give it all you’ve got, lass.”
She hoped “all you’ve got” was enough. It was hard, though, to maintain her Monday-morning-worried status after spending the past few days with Jed. Ailey was in Ireland, safe and loved with Kate and Aunt Siobhan, and Fee was in lo...
No. No, she wasn’t. She was having a good time with an old friend, was all. He’d be gone soon and she’d still be here. She needed to remember that and concentrate on making a success of Silver Threads & Golden Needles.
Joanna was already in the store when Fee got there, practically bouncing in her excitement. “You won’t believe it,” she said. “Not only did we sell a bunch of fabric, two women were here from the state guild and want us to be part of the annual state quilt show. Like a big part of it. They were here on the shop hop in the spring and again for the big summer sale and they were so impressed, Fee. One lady ate some gingerbread and said if you opened another shop, you need to call it Gingerbread Annie’s because she’d love to have her name attached to any shop of yours and any gingerbread of yours, too. And, Fee, do you know who she was? Do you?” Without waiting for an answer, Joanna plowed on, “She was Annie Cortland, the lady with the quilt show on TV that’s been syndicated all over the Northeast. She wants you to be her guest!”
“Seriously.” Fee stared at Silver Threads & Golden Needles’ assistant manager. “You’re kidding, right?”
“No, ma’am, I am not.” Joanna beamed and gave Fee a hug. “She left her card and said she’ll be calling you later today. I was going to call you right then, but they didn’t have time to wait.”
“I can’t believe it. I was just hoping to make enough to keep the mortgage paid. We still need to do that, but having a presence in the state show would be a huge boost. And TV—really? You should be the one to do that, not me. You’re photogenic and funny and you know fabric and quilts better than I do.”
She called Jed as they prepared to open the store, sharing the news with him. Joanna went to the bank for change fifteen minutes before opening time, leaving the door unlocked behind her. Everyone knew they opened at ten.
Fee turned on the rest of the lights, made sure the cutting tables were ready, and made the coffee. There wasn’t much gingerbread today—she hadn’t had time to make it. Joanna was going to pick up some doughnuts at Leslie’s Bakes & More—Leslie Moore’s pastries were wonderful.
The door open and closed, but Fee was counting cards of needles. More were coming, but they were on back order—this wouldn’t be a good time to run out. The sound of someone clearing his throat made her look up with a smile, her finger holding her place in the handful of needles.
Six feet away, not smiling, his hands hanging loosely at his side, stood Roger Kroft.
Fee dropped the cards. She didn’t scream or even gasp, although she tasted b
lood when she bit down on her bottom lip to keep from it. She knelt to pick up the needles, shaking so much she couldn’t keep them in her hands. But it was time for the store to open. She couldn’t have needles on the floor. She had to...
She had to what? Her mind refused to work. Ailey would...oh, dear Lord, Ailey. What if he wanted to see her, to meet her, to be a “daddy” to her after all these years? Fee had never taught her daughter to hate the man who’d fathered her. She’d never even referred to him in the accurate but cold term, “sperm donor.” Ailey’s conception had always been described as an accident, but a joyous one. At some point in her freshman year at college, she’d taken to calling it the “happy hook-up.” It was the first time Fee had had to come close to telling her the unvarnished truth.
“It wasn’t happy. It only became happy when you entered the picture.”
Why was he here?
She laid the needle cards down in a safe place and straightened, clasping her hands behind her back so he wouldn’t see them trembling. “What is it you want?”
“Five minutes.”
She looked around, hoping her expression didn’t look as wild as she felt. Joanna wouldn’t be back for at least ten minutes. Sometimes the store was open a full half hour before any customers came in. Don’t let this be one of those times.
“All right.” Her voice sounded remarkably steady. Later, she would be proud of herself for that. “Five minutes.”
Five minutes with him had changed her life for all time, she remembered, and had to quench an unexpected and intense urge to laugh. She looked at the clock above the store’s front window. It had a sewing motif face. A customer had given it to her as a gift the day she opened Silver Threads & Golden Needles.
It was five till ten.
“Five minutes,” she repeated.
He hesitated, then stepped closer to her. She wanted to back away. Twenty years after their initial contact, she didn’t want to share the same air with him. But she thought in a few heartbeats of Ailey and of a tiny but mighty Supreme Court justice who’d recently died. She owed it to them to stand where she was. To be strong. This was her turf. “That’s close enough.”
He took a deep breath. “I don’t expect you to forgive me. I’m not asking that. I’m just here to apologize.”
Really?
But before she could give voice to the thought, the shop door burst open, its welcoming bells creating a crashing cacophony.
“Back away, Kroft. We may be a little older and out of shape, but I have no problem with convincing you not to come close to her ever again if that’s what you had in mind.” Jed’s voice was calm, almost lazy, but the tension he brought with him was palpable.
“Jed.” She cleared her throat and stretched her hand toward him. “It’s all right.”
“It’s never all right if he’s in the same world as you are, much less the same room.” His voice remained quiet, but the anger seethed from it nonetheless.
Roger spoke again. “I have no doubt you could clean my clock as thoroughly now as you did then.”
“It’s good that you know that.” Jed came to stand beside Fee.
“You’re running out of time.” That she spoke so gently surprised her a little.
Roger looked at the floor, and Fee noticed for the first time that his hands trembled even more than hers had when she’d seen him. “Sometimes you come face-to-face with what you’ve done with your life, and it’s not a real good thing. I can remember Mrs. Withers telling us that no matter how much geography we learned, we still couldn’t get away from who we were. She was right.” He held his hands up as if to show he didn’t have a weapon. They were still shaking when he lowered them.
“Is that all?” Jed didn’t speak gently at all.
“Yes.” The other man turned to walk away, stopped, and turned back, keeping his gaze on Fee. “No. Sharon told me I was an idiot for doing this at all. When I said I’d like to see Ailey, she said she’d testify against me in a court of law if I even suggested it.” He smiled, not with humor—maybe resignation. “I’m not a dependable guy. I’m not a good guy—that’s for the Boy Scout there beside you. But I still apologize for what happened. And I promise I’ll stay away from both you and Ailey forever.” He nodded shortly, turned, and left the store.
“That was weird,” said Fee. She couldn’t deny the relief she felt. The fear that Roger would attempt to enter Ailey’s life had been in the back of her mind for nineteen years.
“Do you think he meant it?” Jed didn’t sound sure.
She nodded. “I told him to stay away from us forever. I can’t believe he’d look me up just to lie about something.”
“I hope you’re right.” Jed looked unconvinced.
“Me, too.”
“I’m going with that. The news this morning was too good to put a damper on. Isn’t it amazing?”
“It is amazing, and I’m happy for you. Are you going to let me take publicity pictures for you?”
“What, take advantage of having a famous photojournalist as a friend? Of course, I am.” She laughed. “Thanks for coming down, Jed, and for having my back. Again. I’m glad your knuckles didn’t suffer this time.”
“Any time.” He laughed, too, bending his head to kiss her. “Antonelli’s tonight?”
“No. I have to bake gingerbread, or there’s going to be a mutiny at Silver Threads. I’ll make some chili, too, if you’ll help me eat it.”
“I’ll make it,” he promised. “See you at seven.”
THE CALL TO DO A SHOOT in Norway came while the chili was cooking on the new stove Fee had helped him choose for the cottage. Jed told his agent he’d give it some thought, but he knew he should do it. The money would be great, although it meant being away over Christmas. If he took this job, he could stay in Dickens for several months before worrying about another one. It would be a chance to see where the relationship with Fee was going.
The word relationship stopped him. Did either of them really want that? Along with a relationship came a certain amount of taking each other for granted. And a certain amount of responsibility to the other party. Did he really want to have to check with someone else before he took or refused an assignment? Heather had demanded so little of him when it came to that; as a college level volleyball coach, she’d often traveled as much as he did. He’d actually been less patient with her schedule than she’d been with his.
He remembered staying home while she was sick—at least until she threatened him with a divorce if he didn’t get out of her hair. “I can’t worry about you,” she’d said. “I have to worry about me. And if you’re not working, I’m worried about you.”
So, he’d traveled less often and in closer proximity to where they lived, but he’d done it nonetheless. He’d been in Idaho when her sister had called and said he needed to come home. Now.
He’d done what she wanted. He knew that, her family knew that, even her sons did—they’d gone with him every chance they had. But he shouldn’t have. His job was to be with her when she needed him, and he’d failed at it by adhering to what she wanted instead of what she needed. Just as he’d failed Fee years before when he left Dickens without looking back to make sure she was all right.
By the time he carried the slow cooker of chili to his car—the first car he’d owned in at least fifteen years—he’d talked Ben, Heather’s youngest, through an econ assignment that had required all of Jed’s memory and many of his internet skills. Prior to that, his older stepson, Rob, had called asking if he could visit him at the camp between Christmas and New Year’s. “I’ll even bring Ben,” he promised. “Dad will be so ready to have us gone by then.”
Jed knew the boys’ father well enough to know Rob wasn’t exaggerating. “Of course, you can come,” he said, laughing, “but make sure your dad knows I may be in Norway part of the time you’re here.”
“He won’t care.”
“Maybe, but he needs to know anyway. He’s still your dad.”
“Okay, o
kay. Thanks for letting us come. I gotta go. Later, Pops.”
“Later.”
No sooner had he hung up than Ailey called. “Is my mom all right?” she demanded. “She sounded funny on the phone just now.”
He wanted to tell Ailey the truth about her mother’s morning visitor, but there was nothing she could do from Ireland, and Fee certainly wouldn’t thank him for that kind of interference. “Did she tell you—” He stopped, uncertain how to go on.
“About the TV lady? Yeah. That’s probably why she sounded different—she’s excited.” Ailey sounded calm again. “I’m glad for her. She works so hard. Do you think she’s doing okay?”
“I think she is.”
“You’d tell me if she wasn’t, right? I haven’t looked it up, but I’m pretty sure godfathers are sworn to tell the truth.”
He laughed, delighted with her. “It goes both ways, so, truth, Ailey, how much Guinness have you had since you got there?”
“It’s only been a week, so not that much.”
“Just be careful, okay, and remember if you need help, I have a passport and enough frequent flyer miles to go around the world a time or two.”
His mother used to say her world was all good if she talked to all three of her kids and laughed at their dad all in one day. When Jed kissed the woman who opened her door carrying a wooden spoon and wearing an apron, he thought he knew what Mom had meant. Being a stepdad and a godfather might not be quite the same as being a parent, but the positions definitely had their perks. Being in lo...having dinner with someone he liked a lot who made him laugh and lust after in equal parts did, too.
After the gingerbread was done and they’d eaten chili, with Fee talking excitedly about someone named Annie Cortland, they went to the pond to skate again. They talked about the quilt show and about the Norway assignment. He took some pictures of Fee when she wasn’t looking. One of them, when she raised an involuntary hand toward a cardinal on a branch, almost took his breath away.
He didn’t show her that one.