by Geeta Kakade
He shot Christy’s friend a look. She was focusing on the road as if she were taking a driving test. She looked different today with her hair pulled back in some kind of knot, a long sweater and a calf length skirt. She had no makeup on and he wondered if they all dressed up for dinner every night.
He was glad she looked the other way as he got out of the SUV clumsily. She’d parked right in front of the rehab center but other than holding the door open for him did not try to play Florence Nightingale.
“Mark says you have my cell number. Call me when you’re ready to go back and I’ll meet you here. I might not answer the phone if I’m in the library but I’ll have it on vibrate in my pocket and I’ll be here five minutes after you call me.” Bridget made sure she kept her eyes focused on the middle of his forehead while she talked and that she sounded impersonal.
Locking the SUV she turned away intent on her errands.
That man needed a lot of space and as far as she was concerned he could have an acre to himself.
Her phone buzzed as she checked out her books at the library. She was just putting them in the SUV when he walked out with Dr. Ali’s nurse at his elbow. The latter was carrying a small bag for him.
Andrew Blackwell smiled to thank her when she shut the door on his side.
Bridget smiled at nurse Alice too as she put the bag in the back seat and then reversed carefully out of the parking area.
“Thanks for the ride”, he said once she was on the road back to Cupid Lodge.
“You’re welcome,” said Bridget.
Putting her hand out she pushed the button for the CD player.
‘I get the message. Two phrases are an entire conversation for you.’
Well she could shift into her convent mode around him very easily.
Andrew stretched out on the recliner the next afternoon. He had done his exercises in his room and cleaned up some old files on his computer that morning. At noon Mark had knocked on his door and told him lunch was ready in the backyard. They had both eaten the salad and sandwiches and then Mark had set up the recliner and told him to relax.
Mark had put the chair in the shade so Andrew was warm in the afternoon sunshine without being scorched. It was hard to relax these days. He was exhausted by the morning session, worried about his knee and just generally on edge. Lying here forcing himself to rest was the best thing to do. Dr. Rustom had said the mind had to be totally relaxed to allow the body to heal quickly. “Count sheep, chant a mantra or recite a favorite poem,” he’d said, “to re-train your mind to relax. Stay busy with things that make you happy. They don’t have to be big projects. Small things are just as important. So is being around positive people.”
Andrew knew all that in his head. It was putting it into practice that was a minute-by-minute challenge. Every minute that he wasn’t working the thoughts returned. The mind was hard to control. The suffering of the troops in Afghanistan, the memories of the natives and their problems, the thought of the vets filling the hospital in Reno who had lost limbs and parts of their organs, everything bothered him. Some of them were fighting back. Some were still battling shock and despair. Life would never be the same for them again.
Remembering Dr. Rustom’s words he began counting sheep.
Andrew woke to the sound of voices.
“I’ve put the diaries in your room in case you’d like to read while we are away,” Christy was saying. “I wouldn’t leave but we planned this right after we got married. It’s important Mark meet his family, especially his Mother and spend some time with her.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way and besides I’m not alone,” Bridget said. “There’s the Kemps, Toby, Moira, Frank plus all the other guests. I’m glad you’re getting a chance to meet all Mark’s relatives and I hope this visit will heal the rift between him and his mother. Besides I’ve never been in charge of anything before, not even a Halloween Party, and I’m looking forward to that.”
“Thanks Bridget. You are a real sweetheart and I know in my heart that no matter what you decide, we will be good friends for the rest of our lives. You will always have a home with us and Mark and I couldn’t be happier if you decide to stay on at Cupid Lodge permanently.”
“Thanks Christy.” Bridget sounded choked. “You’ve been so kind to me and I’ve had the time of my life these last few months. Now with the dolls my life has taken on a new dimension. The website isn’t great but I’m already getting enquiries about the dolls.”
She didn’t think she needed to mention that she was going to put every penny she made from the dolls into Christy’s account.
“I’ve got to go in and sort out the clothes for my trip. Remember what I said about helping yourself to any of the clothes in my closet while I’m gone,” Christy said. “Use our room to work on the dolls or to sleep in if you want to while we’re away. There’s a tv in there and a hot tub in the bathroom. Sometimes it's nice just to have an evening on your own.”
“Thanks. I’ll remember that.”
“Are you coming in?”
“I’ll just finish the peas out here. The sun feels so good on my back.”
Andrew analyzed parts of the conversation he’d heard.
No matter what we’ll always be good friends.
Mark and I couldn’t be happier if you decide to stay on at Cupid Lodge.
I’ve had the best time of my life these last few months.
It sounded as if there was more to Bridget Cupid than met the eye. From their conversation he guessed she had no home of her own.
He’d felt like a fool having to be helped off the floor at their first meeting. He’d ignored her the rest of the evening because he didn’t want a glamorous woman feeling sorry for him. This morning she’d looked totally different in those long loose clothes and he didn’t know if she was glamour girl or general help. The fact she hadn’t said much to him after her first attempt at conversation this morning meant she had picked up on the tension that wrapped him like the fog over the lake in the early mornings. Only in his case the tension stayed with him all the time these days.
Like the old game show he wanted to say, “Will the real Bridget please step forward?”
Mark returned with a couple of fish and Andrew made a mental note to ask him about Bridget later.
“I fell asleep,’ he told his buddy.
“I know,” said Mark. “That’s why I went fishing. Christy says you have to get as much rest as you can to let that knee heal.”
Andrew kept quiet. He didn’t want to tell Mark it was his mind that couldn’t rest.
The more he thought of the accident, the more convinced he was it was deliberate.
If his cover had been blown his mission was in jeopardy and Viktor’s life in imminent danger.
Bridget knew Mark was spending a lot of time with Andrew trying to settle him in before he and Christy left for the family reunion on Saturday. Mark had six weeks leave saved up and he wanted to show Christy as much of the East Coast as he could before the reunion that would be held the weekend of their first wedding anniversary.
Mark’s Uncle Paul had invited him to stay in his penthouse suite in Chicago. General O’Keefe worked and lived in Washington D.C. and his apartment in Chicago was empty for most of the year. He would be in Chicago for a week and he was making all the arrangements for the reunion. All he wanted he’d told them was for Mark and Christy to have a great visit.
Bridget knew Christy and Mark hadn’t taken time off for a honeymoon when they got married and she was happy for them to have this trip. As she’d reassured them she would be fine with the Kemps, Moira, Frank and Toby around.
She didn’t know about Andrew Blackwell though. It wasn’t as if he was like the other guests who spent most of their time away from the house. He was in his room and everyone knew that. It was a different feeling having someone around who wanted to be left alone.
Still for Mark and Christy’s sake they would all try.
CHAPTER THREE
Bridget was cons
cious of a gnawing uneasiness Saturday morning. It had been growing since Mark and Christy had left for Chicago. Mark had driven to the airport and she and Christy had chatted in the back. But now it felt different without Christy’s easy going personality. Bridget shot the man in the passenger seat a glance and then looked away. He was looking at his phone.
“Are you hungry?” he asked suddenly, making her jump a few minutes later.
“A little.” They’d had to leave at five so that Mark and Christy could be at the Reno/Tahoe airport by six for their flight at eight. Glad she had packed sandwiches and fruit for them to take on the flight, Bridget wished she had brought some food for Mr. Blackwell and herself as well.
“I know a place on the way back that makes really good breakfasts,” Andrew Blackwell said. “Let’s stop there.”
Bridget cleared her throat. She didn’t have any money with her and she didn’t want to be in his debt.
“I’d rather wait till we get home,” she said, accelerating slightly.
“I can’t,” he said suddenly. “I need to take my medicines and they can’t be taken on an empty stomach.”
That left her with no choice.
“There’s the sign,” he said a few minutes later. “Take the next exit.”
Bridget looked at the billboard that advertised Aunt Hattie’s homemade breakfasts.
“I will,” she said. They were seated with their menus in front of them before she realized Aunt Hattie was a good businesswoman. Her breakfasts weren’t inexpensive.
“I’ll have a muffin and a glass of water,” she told the waiter. If she couldn’t pay she wouldn’t eat.
“I’ll have the full breakfast,” Andrew Blackwell said giving her a quizzical look.
Bridget kept her gaze on the menu.
“I’ll have that right out.” The waiter left and Andrew Blackwell looked around the restaurant. He’d stopped wanting to apologize for his abrupt manner. It wasn’t easy.
“I’ll be right back.” Getting to his feet slowly he headed for the restroom.
He was back a few minutes later and he frowned at the carrot raisin muffin in front of her.
“Sure that’s all you want?”
“I’m sure.”
‘Cut your coat according to your cloth,’ Sister Winfred had said sternly often enough.
The waiter brought his breakfast and Mr. Blackwell asked for an extra plate. Cutting a third of his omelet he transferred it and a sausage to the plate and said, “Taste it. You don’t have to eat it if you don’t like it but Aunt Hattie’s omelets are the best around and they make their own sausages here.”
“Thanks.” It was better than arguing.
She tasted his breakfast and had to admit it was the best bite of omelet she’d had. Soft and fluffy, filled with fresh mushroom, bell peppers and cilantro, it melted in one’s mouth. As for the sausage, Bridget loved the spices in it.
She looked up to see her companion watching her. “It is delicious,” she admitted.
“Want me to order another one for us to share?”
“I can’t eat any more but you go ahead.”
He caught the waiter’s eye as he passed their table and asked for an order of homemade fries and sausage instead.
“The fries are good too,” he said grinning at Bridget.
She smiled. It was good to see him enjoying his meal.
“So where are you from, Bridget?”
“Reno,” she said.
“Whereabouts?”
“Ten miles outside the city.”
“Where is that exactly?”
She didn’t want to say but fixed with that gimlet gaze of his she had to.
“The Convent of St. Mary’s.”
She saw the flicker of surprise before he went back to a poker face. Toby had taught her poker recently saying she could never tell when she might want to go to a casino and it was better to be prepared for every eventuality.
“You live at the Convent?”
“Yes.”
He stared at her his eyes narrowed and then they widened.
“Are you a nun?”
She shook her head.
“Not yet. I was just raised by the nuns.”
“Are you going to be a nun?” That explained the neck to ankle clothing. If he hadn’t seen the way she looked in the red dress the first evening he would have believed she was a nun already.
“I’m thinking about it.”
“Do you want to be a nun?” Andrew asked as he transferred some homemade fries on her plate. He knew that becoming a nun was a vocation.
“I’m not sure,” Bridget said.
He was confused to say the least and decided to stop harping on the subject. “Did you learn to drive and fix things at the Convent?”
He’d seen her settle down at the kitchen table with an old hairdryer and a set of tools yesterday after dinner.
“I’ve been Mother Superior’s executive assistant since I graduated high school which meant I turned my hand to anything that needed doing in the Convent. Sister Winifred said every girl should know how to do an oil change and change a tire as well as cook, sew and take on the challenges computers present in the new world. I took an auto class for three years in high school but I’ve always liked fixing things since I was a kid. I used to hang around Eb the odd job man at St. Mary’s and he taught me a lot.”
Andrew finished his fries and looked at her as if he was about to fire another salvo of questions.
Before he could say anything she looked at her watch and said quickly, “We have to be getting back. Moira has a dentist’s appointment and I told her I would be back by ten at the latest.”
It was a good thing she had given herself a one-hour leeway just as she always did with the nuns so they wouldn’t worry.
He had quite a bit to think about on the drive back. Bridget Cupid must have had a hard life growing up in a convent. And what lay ahead seemed even harder. Didn’t nuns just pray all the time? Or at least a great deal of the time. He knew some of them had teaching and nursing careers but he had never heard of nuns who could do oil changes but then he guessed nuns were changing too.
His thoughts returned to Bridget. It couldn’t have been easy not to know who your parents were.
He wished Mark had shared more information. Was her stay at Cupid Lodge some kind of vacation to help her decide if she wanted to become a nun? Bridget Cupid looked the type who after one taste of the real world would be ready to scurry back to the safety of the sanctuary that she had grown up in.
Another incoming text had him looking at his phone. He frowned. He’d been told he had to lie low but someone should have told Viktor he’d been taken off the detail. His co-worker in Russia had just texted him that he and his friend would be arriving in Tahoe in five days. At least Viktor had sent the message in code using the names they’d set up. Phil and Harry.
Wondering if he should let HQ know, Andrew decided against it. They had told him in unmistakable terms he was not on the mission any more. If it made Viktor feel better to be in contact with him he wouldn’t grudge him the contact. He knew how scary it had to be coming over as a pair of skiers and then hope to defect. If anything went wrong with their cover story, they would be killed without any hesitation. A quick death in that case would be the most merciful thing they could hope for.
Bridget was saying something and he looked at her as they pulled up in the garage.
“Run that by me again?” he said.
“I want to thank you for breakfast and I also wanted to remind you to take your medicine. You didn’t take it back there.”
She was gone before he could think of anything to say. Andrew told himself he’d have to be more careful around her. Bridget Cupid was very observant.
Bridget went to church on Sunday with Moira and Frank. After that they visited a couple that had a boy Frank’s age and had lunch with them. The Kemps were at a bridge tournament in South Lake for the weekend. The house was very quiet when they got back,
the tray of food Moira had left on the table gone, everything washed and put back in its place and no sign of their visitor.
That was pretty much the pattern for the next week. Andrew Blackwell came out at mealtimes but his conversation was so clipped that everyone, even Mrs. Kemp, stopped saying more than hello to him. Bridget took him to therapy Monday, Wednesday and Friday but except for a brief Good Morning and a quick Thank You, Mark’s friend didn’t say anything. She noticed he looked pale after every session and knew his rehab wasn’t easy but she didn’t dare say a word.
The Kemps, Bridget noticed, stayed in their room or the bonus room upstairs too instead of hanging out in the family room as they had previously done and Frank had strict orders from his mother not to bother Mr. Blackwell. Toby stayed in his greenhouse all the time and when she wasn’t working on the dolls Bridget went there to help him and chat.
The third week of Andrew Blackwell’s visit Bridget was ready Monday morning and out by the SUV when he came out there. She’d been up early, done an oil change on the vehicle and Toby’s truck, showered, and had breakfast. Toby had been chatting with her for the last five minutes while she waited outside.
Andrew Blackwell had a physical therapy appointment for eleven and she had Moira’s grocery list of items to pick up before looking at some new material in a vintage print to redo a doll’s cushion with.
“G’Morning!” he said as brief as ever and Toby and she both chorused a reply.
He muttered something and she frowned. He had his usual leave-me-alone air around him that had everyone around him feeling they were skating on thin ice. With Toby there to hold the heavy door on the passenger side, Bridget got in on hers.
She’d brought out two more CD’s of her favorite classical music so they would have something different to listen to. She would be out of CD’s soon.
“It seems colder this morning,” he said when they were on their way.
“Yes”. She was hoping the snow would hold off till after the Halloween Party. Frank was so excited about it and she was beginning to pick up on his enthusiasm.