by Nancy Fraser
“I don’t think photographs of me right after I’ve fallen flat on my backside on ice will be good promotion, do you?” she asked.
“Maybe not, but Ailey will love it. It’ll stop you from ever showing naked baby pictures to her husband when she has one.”
“How long will you be gone?”
He heard reluctance in her voice and knew she hadn’t wanted to ask. “I’m not sure,” he admitted.
“Well.” Her smile was wide, bright, and phony. “It’s exciting, isn’t it? Plus, you’ll have the camp to come back to. But what about the boys? What if you’re not back before they come?”
“They’ll be okay.”
“Isn’t Ben still in high school?”
“He is, but they’re both very responsible.” The boys had grown up in the gym with their mother or on shoots with him. They’d learned a level of independence that had served them well after Heather’s death. Their dad loved them, but he was more comfortable as a wallet dad than one who actually took them to doctors’ appointments or on college visits.
College visits.
Oh, hell.
Ben was a junior. He needed someone to help him with stuff like that. Unlike his brother, he wasn’t going to segue painlessly into a four-year college with a major he’d planned since sixth grade. He wanted to be a carpenter. He’d grown up watching all the carpentry shows to be found on television, including every video ever made by the legendary Norm Abram. He’d gone the vocational route in high school and wanted to secure an internship in his chosen field.
According to Rob, their father wasn’t being helpful in that regard. Ben’s tools were kept in a storage unit because the garage didn’t have space and his dad didn’t want them in the basement. He wanted Ben to just go to the college where Rob went and get a general studies degree—a person didn’t make a living pursuing hobbies.
Jed had made a great living doing just that, although he’d managed to procure a degree over the years, as well.
He’d been worrying about a relationship with Fee, when the truth was he needed to be worrying about the one he already had with a boy he loved. He might not want to be needed, but as long as he was Pops to Heather’s boys, he was needed. As long as he was godfather to a beautiful young woman in Ireland, he was needed. As long as he was the “don’t tell my folks!” phone call to his nephews and nieces, he was needed.
Beside him, skating slowly, Fee stumbled, and he tightened his arm around her. He thought of Roger Kroft. He didn’t think he was a threat to Fee or Ailey. Not really. But what if he was? What if he changed his mind about staying away and tried to become a part of his biological daughter’s life?
Jed didn’t want that for Ailey. He didn’t want it for Fee.
“What are you doing for Christmas if I bail on you?” he asked.
“Like I told Ailey, I’m going to church on Christmas Eve, then I’m sleeping in. I’m reading and watching old movies and eating leftovers and all the Christmas cookies I want.” She looked as if she wanted to say more, but didn’t, just turned her face away from him and skated on.
He would be in Norway. The timeline the assignment called for was inflexible.
But he’d be back a few days after Christmas. He could give time to the kids then, finish refurbishing the cottage, spend time with Fee.
At least until the next assignment.
Chapter 6
THEY SPENT THE NIGHT together before Jed left for Norway four days later, sharing a bottle of wine and a huge bowl of popcorn while they watched a movie. Along with the passion in their lovemaking, Fee felt a hint of desperation as well. She hoped he didn’t. The last thing she wanted was him feeling sorry for her. The very idea of it made her cry in the shower, and she wanted to stomp her feet in frustration at herself. Since she’d probably never stomped her feet in a fit of temper in her whole life, the thought made her giggle. By the time she took him to the train station and kissed him goodbye before going to the store, she was able to smile brightly and whisper provocative suggestions in his ear just to keep him thinking about her.
She also thought crossly that she’d been at the depot more often than she cared for lately. Especially for someone who hardly ever went anywhere. Staying grumpy in Dickens during the Christmas holiday was difficult, though. She stayed in the shop long after closing that night, finishing the top of the quilt she was making for Jed for Christmas. Not that he was a quilt kind of guy, but she’d been unable to resist the pattern when she’d seen it in a magazine.
Joanna joined her, and soon a few of the Klatchers came in, too. They sewed together, had coffee and cookies, and laughed uproariously at wildly inappropriate stories that may or may not have been true.
The painful loneliness left by Jed’s absence was more bearable here. Talking with the other women gave her...she didn’t know, balance, maybe. She’d known there was no permanency in what he felt about her—there never had been. It was her own fault that she’d allowed herself to hope for more.
But who’d have expected lightning to strike twice in the same place? It wasn’t as if she’d stayed in love all that time, although her memories of him were good ones. Tender ones. She thought, even after their friendship developed into something mind-blowingly physical, that it wasn’t really emotional. Mental, maybe, because she liked talking with him more than she’d ever enjoyed conversation with another man.
But not emotional. Not...love. She may as well say it, since she wasn’t talking aloud. For the first time since she’d fallen in love in high school it had happened again. She—
“What?”
Joanna was looking at her across the table. “What?” she repeated.
“Nothing.” What had she said aloud?
“You know,” said Joanna, “if you need to talk, I’ll be glad to listen.” She grinned over at Fee. “We’ve cleaned toilets together—you can trust me.”
“I do trust you.” It had been so long, she realized, that she’d handled things on her own, taking care of Ailey, robbing Peter to pay Paul in the time-honored way of single mothers everywhere. No one had put her on the back burner, but that’s where she’d chosen to stay.
Until now. Until she wanted more. She met Joanna’s eyes. “Have you ever asked a man for anything?” Joanna’s divorce had been bitter.
“Not since I was married.” Joanna stitched a few inches, then stopped. “But I’d like to think I would.”
“Even knowing—” She stopped.
“That I could get hurt?”
“Yes.”
“I hope so.” Joanna smiled at her, but the expression didn’t reach her eyes. “It’s been years since I’ve felt anything about a man. I miss that. So, even though there aren’t any guarantees, I’d take that chance again.”
By the time she went home, the quilt for Jed was ready for the longarm quilter. The kittens were thrilled to see her, although their food and water bowls weren’t empty, and she was so happy not to be alone in the house she nearly cried again. Twice in one day would be just too much.
Christmas was in two days. She’d give herself until the shop closed at three o’clock on Christmas Eve to mourn the loss of what she hadn’t even realized she longed for.
HE’D RIDDEN A TRAIN called the Cardinal all through the Southeast one year before he’d married Heather. He’d loved it so much that once when Heather’s team was traveling for a tournament, he’d taken the boys and made the trip again. He’d shot hundreds of pictures and recorded a ton of conversations with other passengers. When he added in the observations of Rob and Ben, it had made for a best-seller that had added appreciably to their college funds.
It wasn’t the Cardinal that he rode going to the airport to fly to Norway, but it felt like it. Looking out the window, seeing the interstate highway almost beside the tracks, he laughed when he saw the huge mural of a cardinal on a billboard. There were red birds everywhere.
His phone signaled the receipt of a text. He looked down at it, read the question, sighed, and read it
again. He wasn’t sure how to answer his stepson’s query. Frowning, he tapped out a message to Heather’s ex.
The other man answered immediately, and Jed had to stop himself from cursing aloud. He was sure he wouldn’t have said anything the two retired schoolteachers across the aisle hadn’t heard before, but it wasn’t their fault the boys’ dad was a jackass.
He called Rob, telling him what he needed to do, and hung up.
A few hours later, he found out that the flight to Norway—the last one of the day from this airport—wouldn’t be leaving after all. He could fly out tomorrow or he could have a voucher.
A man walked past wearing a Louisville Cardinals sweatshirt. Jed’s phone signaled another text. Will u √ on Mom on Xmas & make sure she’s ok?
He went into a bar and ordered a beer and a BLT. The airport was in quiet bad weather mode. People were scrolling their phone screens and making decisions about what to do next. Where to go if their destination wasn’t available right now. How to let someone know they might not be home for Christmas after all. When they could get on the train if the planes weren’t moving.
It was going to be a long night.
IT WASN’T SO BAD TO be alone. Fee was used to it, or had been, with Ailey in college or working these past three years. Plus, the kittens were loving and fun. They stayed with her no matter what room she was in, but seemed to know instinctively how to stay out from under her feet. She thought they were the best gift she’d ever had.
She baked enough gingerbread in the two evenings before Christmas Eve to get through the holidays at the store, grateful the recipe froze so well. She not only got Jed’s blanket quilted, she bound it as well. Joanna and the Klatchers, knowing she was trying to finish it, did virtually all the work at Silver Threads & Golden Needles.
“What do you think?” she asked Joanna as they had a drink together at Marley’s after closing the store on Christmas Eve. “Is the shop going to make it?”
“It absolutely is.”
“Can it support two of us?”
“You and Ailey? I think so, don’t you?”
“No.” She hadn’t known until that moment that she was going to say it, but she was, and she didn’t know why she’d waited so long. She’d known this woman since they were in elementary school together. She trusted her more than anyone she hadn’t given birth to or she wasn’t in love with. Not that she was going there. “I mean you and me.”
“Are you talking a partnership?”
“Yes, I am. You’ve been with me since the first week, when we were still setting live traps to get all the mice out of the store.” Fee laughed. “Why didn’t we have Mistletoe and Holly then?”
“Customers are funny about fabric with cat hair on it, but their cuteness factor would have been nice.” Joanna lifted her glass. “I accept your offer.”
“You haven’t even heard the details. I don’t even know the details.” But Fee clinked glasses with her anyway.
Joanna touched her chest with her fingers. “I know them here.”
Oh, damn. Was she going to cry again? Fee blinked hard. “Me, too.”
“Are there other things you know there, too?”
She didn’t even pretend not to know what her friend was talking about. For the first time in all the days since Jed had appeared in Dickens, peace wended its way into her heart along with the excitement and anticipation and the little knot of dread that had taken up residence there.
Christmas might be lonely—almost assuredly it would—but her daughter was having a great time in Ireland, she was going to meet Jed’s stepsons the following week, and Jed would be home soon. At least for a while.
She and Joanna exchanged gifts, had a second glass of mulled wine, and hugged to seal their partnership before walking home through the darkening early evening. Snow fell lightly, creating bright aureoles around streetlamps and holiday lights.
The church service was at nine o’clock. It had been at midnight when she was a kid, but the congregation had a disproportionate number of elderly people and small children, none of whom were good at staying up late. Fee had just put on her boots and closed the Christmas-tree-loving kittens in the laundry room when the doorbell rang. She opened the door, expecting it to be a late delivery or a request for help with a last-minute quilt binding. She hoped if that was the case, they wouldn’t mind waiting until after church.
But it was neither a delivery person or a customer.
“Jed!” She stepped into his arms. “I thought you’d be in Norway by now.” She raised her face for his kiss, getting lost in it for a lovely minute. “I’m glad you’re not,” she said, “but why are you...oh, hello.” She saw them then, two tall boys with blond hair and blue eyes. One wore glasses, the other had a dimple in his left cheek. They both wore backpacks. “You must be Rob and Ben. I thought you weren’t coming for a few days. How nice for Jed that you’re here now.”
“They’re here,” said a voice from behind the boys, “and Jed’s here, but they don’t have a Christmas tree, Mom. Can you imagine? Okay with you if we share ours?”
“Ailey!”
She’d seen videos played backwards so that the world that had exploded previously went neatly and seamlessly back together. Her world hadn’t blown up, although it had done some precarious moving around lately, but the pieces had undoubtedly come together in this one moment in the crowded entryway of her house. She held her daughter close, rocking back and forth in the movement that mirrored motherhood the world over. “Is Maimeó all right?”
“She is. She’s having a great time with Aunt Siobhan.” Ailey leaned back, her eyes bright. “I’m only here for a few days—Jed gave me the chance and I took it. The weather was too bad for him to fly out, but improved enough for his boys and me to fly in. He picked us all up at the airport and we came up on the train together. Is that okay?”
“Oh, it’s more than okay.” She hugged Ailey again, then Jed, and then the two boys. “I’m on my way to church,” she said. “I’ll be back in an hour. You’ll wait, won’t you?”
“We’re coming with you,” said Jed. His eyes held hers. “Let me do this now, before I lose my nerve. As you know, I’m not always the most dependable of people, but I want to be, because I want you to depend on me and I want to depend on you.” He held her hand and extended his gaze to include the kids. “All of you, too. Family isn’t necessarily convenient and the members of it aren’t always ones you’d have chosen if you had first pick. But a wise woman talked to me about last and best loves. You are all my best ones, and Fiadh, you are my last one, just as you were my first.” He stopped, taking a deep breath. “Will you marry me?”
“The bag, Pops,” Rob said in a loud whisper.
“Oh, yeah. Don’t answer that yet.” Jed took the gift bag from Miss Amelia Crumpton’s Tea Emporium out of Rob’s outstretched hand and gave it to Fee. “For you, for what we’ve been to each other, for what I hope we always will be.”
Fee opened the sack and took out the tissue-wrapped object, gasping in delight. “Oh, Jed, he’s perfect.” She went to the Christmas tree and hung the ornament near the top. She reached behind the tree and got the large bag from Silver Threads & Golden Needles. “Here’s my answer.”
The quilt was king-sized, with scalloped edges on three sides and cardinal designs in each of the custom-quilted blocks. “For good luck,” she said, her eyes on his in the glow of the Christmas tree lights. “And with loyalty and love, because I do love you so much, Jed Healy.”
A Year Later
“YOU SHOULD GO.” FEE read the scrawled notes on the piece of paper Jed handed her over the cutting table in Silver Threads & Golden Needles. She grinned at him. “Of course, the last time you scheduled a trip to Norway, we ended up married and living at the lake with three kids between us. You ended up not going at all. I think it’s great they’ve rescheduled the project.”
“It’s Ben’s senior year and Ailey will be home from Ireland soon. I hate to miss anything.”
&
nbsp; With his father’s blessing, Ben lived with them and Rob spent all his school breaks with them. Fee, who’d always wished for more children, felt as if she had them. Jed was hilariously paternal. Being Pops to all three of them was his favorite thing.
“Jed, it’s five days in the middle of December. The only thing you’ll miss is one basketball game and helping with homework.”
Joanna approached, wearing a Christmas sweatshirt she’d designed. “Actually, I could take both your places at that basketball game, stay at your house and cook for Ben and spoil the cats, and do whatever I like with the store while you’re gone. You know, if you’d like to go along, Fee.”
Fee smiled at her. “You’re the best partner ever, Jo, but I’m skipping this one. Jed’s holding down the fort when you and I go to tape the TV show. This is his turn to have alone time.”
She’d traveled more in the past year than she had in the past twenty, sometimes with Jed and sometimes on her own. The shop and Joanna’s and her appearances on Annie Cortland’s show had been startlingly successful.
She knew now that teenage boys differed greatly from teenage girls, that the sky wouldn’t fall if she got on a plane not wearing makeup, and that the cats only liked her best when Ben wasn’t home. She’d learned that having a shouting match in the kitchen didn’t mean the family was falling apart, but that they were learning how to be together.
Her heart knew that even when Jed left, he was coming back. He understood that even though Fee always wanted to live in their expanding cottage on Tamarack Lake, she no longer completely unpacked her suitcase, either. She’d grown to like riding shotgun when he went on two- and three-day shoots. She couldn’t take a picture to save her soul, but she’d developed quite a knack for choosing a subject.
“Okay.” Jed took a deep breath. “I’ll go, but I’ll be back in time for the tree-lighting on the Common.”
“Skating afterward and then all here together through the holidays?”