The Lover's Knot: A Someday Quilts Mystery

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by Clare O'Donohue


  "I love New York. I don't go there too much now, but I used to live there. I went to Columbia for a couple of years."

  "Really? What did you study?"

  Marc made a face. "Biology, if you can believe it. My father's a doctor in town and he really wanted me to follow in his footsteps. I liked science, so I gave it a try, but medicine was not for me. I'm not cut out for postponing gratification." He winked at me. "Nearly killed my old man when he saw my grades. He gave me this lecture about how he wasn't spending hard-earned money so I could go drinking." He laughed. "Sure was fun, though."

  "How did you end up . . . I mean . . ."

  "As the town handyman?" He looked over at me. "It's cool. I don't know. I like working with my hands. I'd love to build a house someday, maybe a smaller version of your grandma's, right on the Hudson, and build furniture."

  "Have you built anything I could see?"

  He got shy for a moment, then admitted, "Yeah, I guess, if you want to. I've got some tables and chairs and stuff. I like to build old style. I use a lot of hand tools and I make some reproductions. That's my real love. I'd like to build something someday that my son, my children, and grandchildren could use and know that I made it."

  I looked over at him and noticed for the first time that his smile was slightly crooked and that he had a dimple on his right cheek. When he saw me watching him, I could see he was blushing a little, but he said nothing and neither did I. He was sweet and full of his own dreams. I liked him. And as simple an emotion as it was, that seemed very complicated to me.

  We chatted about his future furniture-building business the rest of the way home, and then spent twenty minutes moving my stuff into the guest room at my grandmother's house. It was hard to believe that what had taken up an entire New York apartment hardly made a dent in the floor space of one room in this house.

  The next day, when Eleanor was released from the hospital, she didn't criticize either the new arrangement or the fact that I'd taken a leave of absence to help her out. I took this as approval.

  "A lot of work for one person," she said as I helped her into bed.

  "Marc helped me."

  "He has a good heart, when he wants to use it."

  "That's a little unkind."

  She waved me off. "How are you getting off work?"

  "Sick grandmother. Desperate for my help."

  "Now who's being unkind?"

  "What was I supposed to tell my boss?" I protested. "That I'm running away from a broken heart? One of us had to be needy and pathetic for me to get time off, and it wasn't going to be me."

  She took my hand. "It isn't you. You're helping me, and I'm glad you're here. What about some dinner? If I know my friends, there are five casseroles and ten pies in that kitchen."

  "At least."

  "First thing you do is tell people to stop bringing food."

  I wasn't about to tell people that, especially since it wasn't likely my grandmother would be cooking anytime soon, and she wouldn't want to eat what I could whip up. I heated two plates of a noodle dish that Susanne had dropped off and arranged them on a tray with glasses of water and dinner rolls.

  From his position next to my grandmother, Barney wagged and wagged as I carried the tray into the living room, but he wasn't about to leave her side.

  "I didn't think he was allowed on the bed." Barney had his head on a pillow, stomach up for easy petting.

  "You tell him," she said as she gave his tummy a pat. They were a good couple, Barney and my grandmother. She pretended to be annoyed by his dependence, and he pretended to dislike her rules. All the while they clearly adored each other. If he had been a person, it would have been an enviable match. Truth was, I envied them anyway, despite the difference in their species.

  We watched the news while we ate, then Andy Griffith on Nick at Nite. I settled into the bed and felt the tension in my body release as I watched Andy outsmart a big city crook two episodes in a row.

  "This is a bit less exciting than you're used to," Eleanor said.

  "That's a good thing. I've had enough excitement." I told her about the scene between Marc and Ryan.

  "Good enough for him," she said. "Did he think you would wait forever?"

  "It's been less than a week."

  "Long enough." I had to agree with that idea. "Ryan didn't think he was making a decision," she continued. "He thought he was delaying one. He didn't think about how it might change everything."

  "Because he's selfish," I suggested.

  "I don't think that's it. Scared, maybe. People make most of their worst decisions because they're afraid."

  I sat up. "I don't know whether I'm supposed to hate him or feel sorry for him."

  She smiled. "I felt the same way about your grandfather after he died. One too many beers and he wrapped his car around that tree, changing my life, your mother's, even yours, in a way. Of course, your grandfather couldn't have imagined that his decision would have that kind of effect. Just like now, Ryan didn't think that postponing the engagement would send you off with another man."

  I blushed and stammered for a minute until I could figure out what to say. "Marc's not another man, he's a friend."

  She sighed. "I don't mean to interfere."

  "You're not. Well, you are." I smiled. "But I could use a little wise interference. It could be your way of paying me back for all the help I'm going to give you around the house."

  "And at the shop, if you can. I took a lease on the diner to expand the shop."

  I practically jumped. "You did what? When?"

  "Why are you so surprised? It was your idea."

  "You've been in the hospital."

  "I had access to a phone." She rolled her eyes, but I could see she enjoyed being one step ahead of me. "I thought about what you said, and it made sense, so I made a few calls. I had nothing else to do, just sitting there like some sick person."

  I settled back down next to Barney. "Wow" was all I could get out.

  She patted my hand. "And it worked out perfectly, with you here to help. That will keep you busy."

  I stretched myself out on the bed, wrapping my arm around a sleeping Barney. "Not too busy. I have a limited amount of energy." I closed my eyes and was asleep to the sounds of Opie and Aunt Bee talking about their day.

  CHAPTER 16

  My grandmother's alarm went off at six-thirty in the morning, but I was awake for several minutes before. Barney had woken up and jumped off the bed, stepping over me in the process. My grandmother reached for her crutches and dropped them, saying in a loud whisper, "Damn," a word she'd never used before, at least not in my presence.

  "Let me help." I got up and the day began.

  I scrambled eggs according to my grandmother's strict instructions, and they weren't just edible--as they were when I made them in New York--they were quite good. I walked Barney, did the dishes, and brought down unfinished quilting projects so my grandmother could do some hand sewing. I made a list of all the needed groceries and errands she wanted me to run. When I got back, she told me, I would need to pack some of her old clothes into boxes for a charity drive.

  "One more thing," she said as I was walking out the door with half a dozen lists. "Stop at the shop. See if Nancy needs any help." I was exhausted, and it wasn't even ten o'clock.

  When I walked outside I half-expected to see Marc's truck and his ladder to the roof. I found myself a little disappointed when they weren't there. I wondered if he was finished with the roof, which would be a good thing, I told myself, since it looked like rain.

  I did most of the errands and managed to grab a cup of coffee at the diner before I walked to Someday Quilts. From the outside it looked quiet, but when I opened the door, I walked straight into a very frazzled Nancy.

  "We have to shut down the store," she said instead of hello.

  "What? Why?"

  "Ask him." She pointed to Marc, who was coming up the stairs with a toolbox and a measuring tape. I smiled, a little too happily, I kn
ew, but I was glad to run into him.

  "Nancy," he chided, "Eleanor wants this wall knocked down as soon as the diner closes tonight. I can't do that with people walking around. There will be dust everywhere, power tools. If you don't care about the customers, think about the fabric." He was having fun with her, I could see, but Nancy wasn't interested.

  "Did she hire you?" I turned to Marc. "She didn't say anything to me."

  "She called me this morning. She said to get started right away. I think you were out running errands." Marc shifted a little but stood his ground.

  Nancy looked at me. "I'm sorry," I said. "She just told me last night that she leased the shop. And you know my grandmother. Once she makes up her mind, she doesn't like to wait."

  "Look, I'm all for this renovation," Nancy sighed. "But this one shows up without any warning when I'm trying to run a store." Nancy tilted her head toward Marc but looked at me. "I admire enthusiasm, but you don't want someone going off half-cocked."

  "Hey, I'm here." Marc leaned toward Nancy. "I could be at the track with your husband."

  Nancy rolled her eyes. "You could hardly do more harm there than you're doing here." She smiled at Marc as though he were a slightly mischievous puppy. "And before you get smart with me again, young man, remember I've known you since you were a small child. There's no fooling me with that charm of yours."

  "Yes, ma'am." Marc pretended to look contrite, and then smiled. Then he turned to me and shrugged. "What now, granddaughter?"

  I blushed, and I knew he could see it, so I looked around the shop trying to think of something to say. "The diner's closing tonight?"

  "After the lunch crowd. The owners told Eleanor she could have it all. Not that she wants a bunch of old kitchen equipment." He smiled. "Didn't Eleanor tell you all this already?"

  "No," I said. "Why don't you start work on the diner, then, pulling out the old stuff and getting it cleaned up. How long will that take?"

  "A few days."

  "Fine," I continued. "We'll close Wednesday, do inventory, and bring everything over to my grandmother's. Everyone in town knows where she lives. We can run the shop out of there for a few weeks. And Marc can wait until, say, Saturday to knock down this wall. In the meantime, we'll pack up whatever we can."

  "Fine with me," Marc said. "I have a doctor's appointment Thursday anyway."

  Nancy turned to me. "I'll call our regulars," she said, "and let them know we're moving to Eleanor's for a while."

  "You do that," I said. "And don't worry about Marc. I'll make sure he doesn't do anything without my supervision. Okay?"

  She laughed. "Good luck with that, dear." She drifted to the stairs and disappeared to the office below.

  "Good thinking." Marc threw an arm around me. He leaned his head in and rested it on mine. "I like the idea of you supervising me."

  I let out a nervous laugh. "Work fast," I said, then pulled away. "And don't cause any trouble."

  "Man, you are just like your grandmother."

  Less than twenty minutes after I arrived, Carrie was in the shop to confirm what Nancy had, apparently, told her on the phone. Several minutes later, Maggie arrived. Then Bernie. Then Susanne. Only Natalie was missing.

  Carrie said twice to me and once to Susanne, "Well, the shop needs to be bigger. I agree with that. But it's a shame to lose a place to get some coffee."

  "What about setting up some tables and making a little coffee shop in the store?" I suggested by way of compromise, and was verbally beaten in response.

  "We'll have coffee all over the fabric," said Nancy and Susanne.

  "You can't run two businesses and do them both well," declared Bernie.

  "Have you ever had Eleanor's coffee?" whimpered Carrie. I had actually had my grandmother's coffee. And while it wasn't a halfdecaf soy latte, it was quite good.

  I could see that no one was interested in a coffee and quilt shop. "Just throwing out ideas," I said in my defense. "I'm sure my grandmother knows exactly what she wants in the space."

  "She certainly does," Marc finally spoke.

  "Thank you, Marc, but we'll talk with Eleanor about her plans." Maggie gave him an icy stare I hadn't thought she was capable of. Only Carrie smiled at Marc and said she'd be interested in hearing what he had in mind.

  "Can I start doing anything now, boss?" Marc asked, smiling broadly.

  I looked around at the shop. "We can move stuff away from the wall you're going to open up." I looked toward Nancy. "But only while I'm here helping." She nodded her approval.

  "Why don't you bundle up some of the out-of-season fabric?" Maggie suggested.

  Nancy leaned against the checkout counter. "I want to go through that for inventory first. Maybe pack up here, behind the register."

  Marc moved toward the register, but I stopped him. "You grab a box and Nancy and I will take the stuff out of here."

  "I'll help," Carrie volunteered, and stepped next to me.

  I reached my arm into the deep shelf underneath the register, while Carrie hovered nearby.

  "Be careful," Maggie said. And no sooner had the words come out of her mouth than something bit my hand. I pulled it out immediately. Blood was running from my fingers.

  "Oh, dear," Carrie gasped, and grabbed antiseptic and a bandage from her tote bag. "One good thing about having small children is you're prepared for anything."

  I went downstairs to the bathroom and tried to wash the blood away, but it kept coming. Just the tips of two fingers had cuts in them, but they were deep. I finally gave up trying and put the antiseptic and bandage on it, then went back upstairs.

  Nancy was holding a flashlight and scanning the dark shelf. "Found it," she said. Carefully she held up a rotary cutter--a tool that looks like a pizza cutter but is designed for quick cutting of fabric. "It was open." She turned to me, a concerned look across her face. She put a cover over the sharp blade. "These are really dangerous. You're so lucky it wasn't worse."

  I nodded. "Maybe that's enough for today," I suggested. "Marc, just clean up and we'll worry about all this stuff after Wednesday. I'm going home."

  "I want to drop in on my son Brian," Maggie announced as she picked up her purse. "Nell, can you give me a lift? It's on your way."

  While Nancy and the others stood watching Marc, he just smiled at me and went back to measuring. I grabbed my keys and headed for the door, wondering just what I had gotten myself into by volunteering to stay in Archers Rest to help my grandmother.

  CHAPTER 17

  Maggie gave me the directions to her son's house as soon as we got in the car, and then we drifted into an uncomfortable silence. She fidgeted with her purse and looked out the window. I stared straight ahead at the road. Alone with her for the first time, I felt a little like a school child, afraid to talk in case she "sssh'd" me. With the members of the quilt club she seemed like a different person, relaxed, younger. But with me, she was every bit the stern librarian she'd once been.

  "Is this the son who's a state representative?" I finally asked.

  "It is, but that's just a stopping point. He'll be governor one day," she said proudly.

 

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