“I’ll be praying for you.”
He winks, turns and is gone.
Forty-seven
I keep my promise to Father Laurent.
After he and Ramsey leave, I head straight for the chapel to pray for his healing. I pray the radiation won’t make him sick. That it will do the job. That he will recover. That the cancer will be beaten.
And when I am done I do the other thing he asked of me. Father Laurent told me to seek God’s path for myself and for Ramsey. I tell God that I am on the lookout.
Show me the way, God. If I’ve offended Ramsey, help me to make it right. Help me explain to him why I did what I did.
And oh, God, if I am having delusions about what I am feeling for Ramsey, would you please, please, please, make those feelings go away.
Make Ramsey’s way as plain as mine. Help him to let go of his wounds like you are helping me to let go of mine.
And please help me to be the person Father Laurent thinks I am.
In Jesus’ name, Amen.
I don’t get up right away. It is completely tranquil here in the chapel. There is only one other place that is as peaceful and that is my roof.
At least it used to be.
I hope it still is.
I pull myself out of the pew and make as discreet an entrance onto the sales floor of Something Blue as I can. L’Raine is helping someone with our selection of mother-of-the-bride-dresses. Mom is at the register breaking open a roll of quarters. She sees me.
“Daisy, there you are. Guess who just called?”
I hope it wasn’t Marshall. “Who?”
“Reuben. He called to see how the roof garden is coming and when I told him Ramsey is nearly finished, he said he’s coming out to see it.”
This shouldn’t surprise me but it does. I immediately begin to fret over whether I will have to kick Ramsey and Liam out of Reuben’s apartment. And whether Father Laurent will be able to tolerate the radiation treatment so that he can stay at The Finland no matter where Ramsey and Liam end up.
“Daisy, did you hear what I said?”
“Yes. Yes, I heard you. So, when is he coming? What about Ramsey and Liam?”
“He said not to worry about that. That he’d get a hotel room this time. He’s thinking of flying in on Tuesday.” Mom glances down at an appointment calendar by the register. “That’s the day before your birthday, Daisy! Oh my goodness. I can’t believe it will be here so soon. We should do something.”
I walk over to her, shaking my head politely. I really don’t want to do anything.
“Let’s just do what we always do, Mom. Let’s just meet Kellen and Laura for dinner at Ping’s. We can ask Shelby and Eric to join us. Reuben can come, too, if he wants.”
“But Daisy, it’s your thirtieth.”
Ouch, ouch.
“It’s just another birthday, Mom. I don’t want to do anything special. Really.”
Mom produces a pout worthy of comment. “Can’t we have a little party or something?”
“Dinner at Ping’s will be a little party. It will be just right.”
“We had a party for Kellen when he turned thirty.”
“Yes, but it was a surprise. You never asked him if he wanted that party, Mom. And I really don’t want one. I like Ping’s. I like keeping it simple. I’ll call Shelby and ask her, okay?”
“You shouldn’t have to invite your friends to your own birthday party.”
It’s not a party. “I talk to her all the time anyway, Mom. It won’t be any trouble to ask her.”
“Well, if that’s what you want.”
“It is.”
She pauses for a moment. “Are you in a funk because Daniel got married? Because he’s just simply not worth it, dear. He isn’t.”
Mothers know, don’t they, when their children are troubled. “I’m not in a funk, Mom. I just have a lot on my mind.”
She stares at me for a second and then her eyes widen.
“It’s Ramsey, isn’t it?” she murmurs and I nearly choke on my own saliva.
“What?”
“I’ve seen the way he looks at you. I’ve seen the way you look at him.”
“Mom, you’re way off.”
“No, I’m not. Why do you think I rushed over to welcome Marshall like he was an old family friend yesterday? I knew something was up between you two.”
My face flames red. “Nothing is up! I don’t think Ramsey particularly likes me.”
Especially not at the moment.
“No, you’re mistaken there, I think. He does like you.” Mom’s expression turns thoughtful. “But for some reason liking you is making him sad. He must think you’re still in love with Daniel.”
“He doesn’t know anything about Daniel.”
“He doesn’t?”
“No.”
“Oh.” She purses her lips together, deep in thought as she ponders why liking me would make Ramsey sad.
I’ve got to get out of this conversation. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I’m going back up to help Maria Andréa with that new dress. Call me if it gets busy.”
“Mmm.” She heard me but she’s still engrossed in contemplations.
I leave her, wishing I wasn’t so likewise occupied.
The rest of the morning crawls by. I spend it hiding in the alterations room with Maria Andréa, Rosalina and Liam. At noon, I offer to make the kids lunch which they accept and we spend the next half-hour eating corn dogs and tater tots. After lunch, Liam leaves to get his X-Box to set up in my apartment so that he and Maria Andréa can play and not be abandoned on the third floor. While he’s gone, I can’t help but ask Andréa if she likes Liam as more than a friend. She’s only twelve, so I’m half-expecting a facial contortion of some sort, but she just hands me her plate and tells me she’s too young for a boyfriend.
“So when you do start dating, what kind of guy do you think you will be attracted to?” I ask, as casually as I can. I could really use the perspective of someone who hasn’t made any mistakes yet.
Maria Andréa hands me Liam’s plate. She doesn’t seem the least surprised that I would ask her such a thing. “He has to be a friend first. And kind to people. Not just me, but everybody.”
I rinse the dishes, formulating a question in my mind. “Andréa, do you think there’s just one person in the world you are meant to fall in love with and marry?”
She leans against the counter and crosses her arms. “Yeah. I think so.”
“So how do you find that one person?”
“Well, if you’re meant to fall in love and marry them then you don’t have to look for them. It just happens.”
Just like that.
Liam tromps through the open door, his arms full of gadgetry.
“Here,” Andréa moves toward him and takes the falling controllers out of his hands.
“I’m going back to the alterations room,” I tell them.
“’Kay,” Liam calls out.
“Bye. Thanks for lunch,” Andréa echoes.
I leave them to sort through the cables as they prepare to race skateboards across an urban landscape.
I spend the afternoon hand steaming the wrinkles out of Elisabeth Erdahl’s dress and fussing over other little tasks that I usually leave to Rosalina. She tells me more than once that I don’t have to do any of it, but I need to stay busy. We keep the door to the alterations room open mainly for Liam and Andréa’s sake, but I am listening for the sounds of Ramsey’s and Father Laurent’s return.
By four o’clock, they still aren’t back.
Max pokes his head in about four-fifteen. “Hey, that weird sound Wendy and Philip have in their apartment? I hear it now, too,” he tells me. “It doesn’t bother me, but I told Wendy about it and she thinks you need to hear it.”
“It always stops when I get there, Max.”
“Well, you can hear it now if you want.”
“You just heard it?”
“Yep.”
I turn to Rosalin
a. “Is Mario around?”
“No. He’s helping a family from church move today.”
“All right.” I follow Max up the stairs to his apartment.
“I hear it in the bathroom, just like Wendy and Philip do.” Max leads the way into his apartment, which is stuffy and bachelor-chaotic.
“You should turn your AC up, Max. It’s positively tropical in here.”
“Is it?” Max says, hopelessly unaware of conventional things.
We arrive in his bathroom. The countertop is a hodgepodge of shaving items, dental products and hair gel. Hair gel not in a bottle but on the counter itself.
“Oops.” Max reaches for a wad of toilet paper to sop it up
“It’s all right, Max. Where do you hear it?”
“Just stand still a sec and don’t say a word.” Max flushes his toilet and we stand in silence as it finishes its cycle. When it’s done, I hear a slight scrabbling noise inside the walls, like impatient fingernails tapping on a tabletop.
“What do you think it is?” I ask.
“Bats, most likely. But I don’t think Wendy’s going to like hearing that. You may want to have Mario check the vents and stuff to see if he can tell where they’re getting in.”
“Great. How do we get them out?”
“Beats me. I guess if you find where they’re getting in, you wait until nighttime when they are out flying around and plug up their entrance.”
“All right. Thanks, Max.” I start to walk out of his bathroom and he follows.
“Daisy?”
“What?”
“What’s the matter?”
There’s no use pretending around Max. He’s like my mother. Like Shelby. He knows me too well. “I’m just a little confused right now.” I keep heading for his front door.
“About what?”
“Oh. Everything.”
“Everything?”
I stop at the door and then turn to face him. “I had coffee yesterday with Marshall Mitchell.”
“I thought his name was Mitchell Marshall.”
“No, it’s not. It’s Marshall Mitchell.”
“And?”
“And he’s a nice guy who’s probably a great catch. But Max I don’t feel like putting out a net. I just don’t.”
“How come?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re not holding out for Daniel, are you?”
“Good heavens, no. He got married, remember?”
Max scratches his chin. “Then there must be someone else you’re holding out for.”
“There’s no one else, Max. How are things with you and Bettina?”
Max smiles. “I think she might like me. I think she just might. We’re going to a poetry reading tonight. She called and asked me.”
“Sounds great, Max.” I open his front door.
“You want to come?”
Just as I’m about to say, “No, thanks,” I turn my head and see that Father Laurent and Ramsey have returned from the hospital. They are standing just outside Father’s apartment and Ramsey is putting the key in the lock. He turns at the sound of Max’s voice, just as I am walking out of Max’s apartment. Our eyes meet for only a second. He looks away before I do.
“Bye, Max. I’ll get Mario to come take a listen, okay?” I try not to sound like I’m making an excuse for why I’m coming out of Max’s apartment, but it sure sounds like one. Bravely, I walk over to Father Laurent. “Father, how was it? Are you doing okay?”
“It was a piece of cake,” He looks pale and groggy but he smiles anyway. “Thanks for praying, Daisy.”
“Here, Dad. Let’s get you inside.” Ramsey ignores me. He holds the door open wide for his father and steps aside to let him in. Once Father Laurent is in the apartment Ramsey turns to me. “Can you send Liam up when you have a minute?” His eyes are steel gray today.
“Of course. Can I get you anything? Can I order something for you guys for dinner?”
He blinks. “No. We’ll be fine.” There is no inflection in his voice.
This is driving me nuts.
“Ramsey, could I talk to you for a minute?”
“Now’s not a very good time. I need to look after Dad.”
“Um, well, how about after you get him situated?”
“It’s been a long day, Daisy.”
“Yes. Of course. I’m sorry. Well, maybe tomorrow, then?”
“Maybe.”
I attempt one last peace offering. “Are you sure there’s nothing I can do for you?”
He swallows, pauses and then shakes his head once. “Just send Liam up when you have a minute.”
Ramsey turns and walks inside his father’s apartment, closing the door behind him.
Forty-eight
Dear Harriet,
Do you remember the day when I realized Skip had forgotten all about me? When I finally understood I would probably never hear from him again? Surely you must. It was perhaps only the third or fourth time I’d written to Dear Harriet.
If I knew where that journal was I’d get it out and read what I wrote. I believe I told you I felt empty inside. Hollow.
Remember when Daniel sat me down and told me he didn’t really want to marry me? I was full. Full of anger, resentment, heartache, fear, grief. But today I feel hollow. Like I did when I knew Skip was gone.
I keep reminding myself that a couple years after the Skip episode, I thought the whole thing was rather silly.
I think I am falling in love with the wrong man.
Dearest Daisy,
I remember when you had to let go of Skip. I remember telling you the smartest thing you could do was move on. Why would you want to hang on to someone who has no desire to hang onto you?
Perhaps you felt empty back then because the feelings you had for that boy hadn’t been that deep and when the feelings spilled out, there wasn’t much of a puddle.
The feelings you had for Daniel ran deep. When everything spilled out, there was a flood of sorts. That’s not so hard to understand.
As to the other thing, please define “wrong.”
Harriet
Forty-nine
“So what don’t you like about him?” Shelby is checking her tan line as we sit on beach chairs on Lake Calhoun.
“You’re getting burned,” I tell her.
“No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.”
“Is he, like, all about himself?”
“No.” I sigh and turn my gaze back on the utter blueness of the lake in front of us. “Marshall’s very polite. Kind. Successful, but definitely not snobbish. I don’t know, Shel. I just felt nothing when I was with him. Shouldn’t I feel something when I meet a guy and I’m wondering if we’re meant to be together?”
“I suppose.”
“Didn’t you sense something special about Eric when you first met him?”
“Well, no, not exactly. We met at a faculty meeting. He stepped on my foot when he was trying to maneuver his body into the chair next to mine.”
“So he sat next to you?”
“It was the only chair left.”
“And I guess there were no fireworks when he stepped on your foot?”
Shelby laughs. “No. Not really.”
“So when did the fireworks show up?”
Shelby is now studying the water, just like I am. “I don’t know. I don’t know when they showed up. It just happened.”
We are quiet for a moment.
“I’ve got to find a way to tell Ramsey what I meant by that touch on his shoulder.” I am talking more to myself than to Shelby. “I think it really bothered him.”
“Well, it shouldn’t have. He should thank you, that’s what he should do. He should thank you for putting that—what do you call her?”
“The Horn Blower.”
“For putting that Horn Blower in her place.” Shelby turns to me. “So what did you mean by it? What did you mean by that touch on his shoulder?”
I sit up in my beach chair. “For
heaven’s sake, Shel, I didn’t mean anything. I just didn’t want her thinking that she still has some sort of stranglehold on him, and that other women don’t naturally find him desirable, and that Ramsey is still pining away after her. I didn’t want her thinking those things.”
“Oh.”
We are quiet for a second or two.
“Why don’t you want her thinking he is still pining away after her?” Shelby’s brow is furrowed under her blue-hued sunglasses.
“Because he’s not!”
“Oh.”
Silence.
“So why do you care what she thinks?” Shelby asks.
I have no idea. “Are you purposely trying to annoy me?”
“’Course not. Just wondering what you’re thinking.”
“I don’t know what I’m thinking.”
“I know what I’m thinking.”
“Hush up, Shelby.”
“You like him.”
“Be quiet.”
“I think it’s great that you like him.”
“I don’t want to talk about this. We’re getting burned. We should go.” I stand up and yank my beach chair out of the sand. Shelby makes a fuss over the little shower of sand that lands on her arms and legs.
“Sorry.”
“There’s nothing wrong with liking him, Daisy.”
“Well, what’s right about it? He won’t talk to me.”
Shelby stands up, too, and gently pulls her own beach chair out of the sand. “Then you talk to him.”
I get back to The Finland and try to heed Shelby’s advice. But Ramsey is gone when I arrive. I find Father Laurent in the care of my mom and L’Raine.
“It’s not so bad,” he says, when I sink into his couch and ask how he is. Father Laurent is reclining in his big chair. He face is wan. A cup of water is by his side but nothing else.
“So you’re feeling crummy?” I ask. Dumb question, but I ask anyway. It’s obvious he’s not feeling particularly perky.
“I’m not going to race you down the stairs,” he quips. “The doctor said this would take the wind out of my sails. He wasn’t kidding.”
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