by Geeta Kakade
Could Harry have leaked information without realizing it?
Andrew’s thoughts chased each other around in his head the way the puppies chased their own tails.
“If he’s getting Bridget involved in anything dangerous I’m going to ride along with her,” said Phillip.
“I was hoping you would say that,” said Agnes. “I’ll keep an eye on things here.”
“What things?”
“Well,” Agnes said sweetly. “I’ll keep an eye on the other guests who are staying here. We have to make sure they all behave this time.”
“No more guns.”
“No,” Agnes said. “No more guns.”
Phillip gave her a sharp look but she was wearing her poker expression. He sighed and flitted out the window in search of some fresh air.
It was a real shame Ma thought, that the Wild West had been tamed. There was nothing like a good gun battle to kill the bad guys, make the heroine very sure that she loved the hero and for him to throw her on his horse and gallop off into the sunset.
That set her thinking and then she realized something. There was nothing like a little competition to help matters along. That still worked in the present day.
Phillip had gone crazy when they had taken in a boarder who had looked at Agnes with sheep’s eyes. Her husband had started paying her so much attention that their daughter Anne had been born nine months later.
Yes, there was nothing like some competition to wake up a man.
On Wednesday, Bridget asked Mr. Kemp if he would give Andrew a ride into town. She said she had to take some things to the Convent and would appreciate the help. Mr. Kemp agreed and Bridget left the house before Andrew came out of his room anxious to avoid any discussion of what she planned till she knew for sure it was going to work.
She spent an hour with Mother Superior and Sister Winifred and then drove back to Cupid Lodge, her heart a little lighter.
When she told Andrew about the plan as they walked by the lake that evening he agreed to it reluctantly. She knew he felt helpless and had no choice in the matter.
Friday morning she took him in for therapy and was glad he came out looking better than he normally did. Andrew told her Dr. Rustom had him running in the pool. The buoyancy of the water had helped the usual pain so much and the exercise had made him believe he was actually on the road to a full recovery.
“Of course you are,” said Bridget.
He leaned over and kissed her and she was surprised. A second later she told herself not to take the gesture seriously…Andrew was just happy about his recovery. Bridget couldn’t help wishing it had meant more than that.
“Dr. Rustom says I have to be extra careful not to get overeager and do too much. There are people who shatter their knee caps all over again by putting too much weight on the leg before it’s ready.”
“Dr. Rustom’s a very good doctor,” said Bridget. “He told Christy that when he and Dr. Ali first got here some people wouldn’t go to them because they were foreigners and after 9/11 they had patients who didn’t go back to them.”
She ended on an indignant note.
“They’ve stuck out the tough times,” said Andrew, “and proved they are both very good doctors sincerely interested in the welfare of their patients.”
They stopped at the lookout spot that Bridget had first taken him to and went over every detail of what she was going to do before they returned to the house. When they got back Andrew did something he hadn’t done for a long time. He took his laptop into his room after lunch and didn’t come out till dinnertime.
After dinner Friday night Bridget told Moira that Andrew needed a prescription filled urgently and they had forgotten to get it that morning. They would be gone an hour at the most.
They took Christy’s car. Instead of going to town, Bridget drove the fifteen miles to Fallen Leaf Lake and stopped in front of a café on the main road and waited by the pay phone there at the back of the parking lot. She got out as soon as it rang and said a few words to the person at the other end.
Andrew had sent Viktor a message using Bridget’s cell phone and got one in return telling him where Viktor would contact him tonight. He was on the move, never staying in the same place for more than twenty four hours.
“I don’t care if you don’t want to take me out on Sunday,” Bridget screamed into the phone. If anyone was listening to the call she was doing a perfect imitation of someone having a row with their boyfriend. “I know you want to go out with that other woman in her big blue SUV and are just making excuses. ”
She waited and then a minute later said. “Well do whatever you want to do. I’m going to the old drive by theater on Sunday at 2 to get a present for my Mom at the swap meet. Don’t bother calling me again.”
She slammed the phone and got back in the car and nodded at Andrew.
He kept looking in the mirror on the passenger side and the side view mirror on the drive home checking the road.
“Anyone following us?” she asked nervously.
“Nobody. I’m sorry I got you into this. Maybe we should change the plan.”
“Not by all that’s holy,” said Bridget though her heart was beating fast and her mouth was dry. “The plan’s worked great so far. This is the only chance I’ll have to make a difference in someone’s life.”
“I don’t know if Mark will ever forgive me for involving you in all this,” said Andrew.
“What they don’t know won’t hurt them,” Bridget pointed out. “Let’s go over the plan for tomorrow.”
Andrew looked at her and he was filled with admiration. There was absolutely no need for Bridget to go out on a limb to help him and put herself in personal danger while she did so.
What amazed him the most was she showed no signs of fear. He’d caught a glimpse of that courage in a small dose the day she had tackled the three youths in the lane.
On the drive, they sat and talked for a while. Bridget repeated everything Andrew told her about their plans for Sunday making sure they’d left no ground uncovered before they went into the house.
Luckily the others at home were in the throes of party preparation when they got back and no one noticed how jumpy she was.
“Is something wrong?” Moira asked Saturday morning looking at Bridget’s plate. “Don’t you like the fried egg?”
“It’s great,” said Bridget quickly. “I think I’m just excited about the party.”
The guests had left for the day after breakfast. Mrs. Kemp and Moira were keeping her company as she ate. She’d told them she’d been out carving a small pumpkin before breakfast while Andrew worked on the huge one. They’d decided to work in the garage. Though the snow had stayed away, temperatures were dropping and it was cold this morning.
“I can’t seem to find the bat streamers Frank and Christy made last year,” said Moira. “I promised him I would find them. There may be a box in the attic we didn’t bring down.”
“I’ll go look,” said Bridget glad she’d managed to swallow her egg. “I have to find my witches’ hat anyway.”
She was out of the kitchen before either woman could say a word. They looked at each other after she’d gone.
“Bridget’s one of the nicest people I know,” said Mrs. Kemp getting out the ingredients for a final batch of pumpkin cookies. “I like the way she’s come out of her shell since June.”
“Yes,” said Moira. “I hope she finds something here that will help trace her family. That must be so hard; not to know your parents.”
“I hope she finds love here,” said Mrs. Kemp emphasizing the last word.
Moira smiled and nodded.
“Have you noticed anything different about her lately?” asked Mrs. Kemp
“She’s not as reserved as she used to be around Andrew. I’ve never heard her laugh so much as when the two of them and Frank were cutting into that large pumpkin and scooping out the insides this morning.” Moira started mixing the cookie dough. She lowered her voice. “I told Fran
k he could have a pumpkin of his own to carve if he stayed in the tree house this morning.”
Mrs. Kemp nodded approvingly. “They need time alone. She’s like a flower unfurling one petal at a time.” Taking out a rolling pin she dusted it with flour and sprinkled some on the counter. “I only hope she won’t rush off back to the Convent before she gives herself a chance at life.”
Bridget had rushed up grabbed the box labeled streamers and come down in time to hear Mrs. Kemp’s last remark.
She put the box in the hall, checked her phone for the message she was expecting and went quietly out to the garage to finish the pumpkin she’d been carving for the competition.
“Phil’s fine,” she told Andrew and then picked up one of the carving tools.
She was quiet for so long that Andrew looked at her, “Anything wrong?”
Was she beginning to regret her part in all this?
“Uh uh!’ she said. “I just can’t get the eyes the way I want to.”
He knew her remark was a cover up but he let it go. He’d been by the kitchen window looking for the scoop Frank had thrown somewhere and overheard the conversation between Mrs. Kemp and Moira. Now looking at Bridget he wondered how much she minded what was said about her.
He loved the way she looked in the lavender top and jeans, glad that she was gradually giving up those long skirts and cover-all tops. Did she know how beautiful she was? He doubted it. He had never met anyone who was so natural and unassuming.
She frowned at her pumpkin. “A three year old could have done better,” she said under her breath.
“Here let me help.” Standing behind her he reached around her to hold her right hand and guide it. With the other he held the pumpkin steady aware that he was not using his crutches to support himself. This week Dr. Rustom had said he could progress from ‘toe on ground to foot on ground for very short periods. This seemed a good time to try that out. “Go like this and then like this.”
Bridget’s brain had fogged up at go. All she was aware of was being so close to him, of his breath warm on her cheek and his hand holding hers. Her heart fluttered like the little bird she had found long ago. Andrew and she seemed to be encased in a capsule where only the two of them existed and every sensation was magnified a thousand times.
“See how easy that is?” He let go of her hand.
She leaned back to get a proper look at her pumpkin and came up against his chest.
“My pumpkin looks like she’s had bad luck with plastic surgery. The results here are like one of those episodes on plastic surgery gone wrong that Mrs. Kemp loves to watch.”
Suddenly they were both laughing as they looked at Bridget’s attempts at carving. Andrew’s arms tightened around her and he dropped a kiss on her cheek.
“You get an A plus for effort,” he said.
Bridget blinked and stiffened as soon as she felt his mouth. She put the back of her hand up to brush it across her forehead. Her face was burning.
Andrew moved away and sat down. He lowered his voice. “Mrs. Kemp and Moira didn’t mean to hurt you with their remarks. They really care about you.”
She felt surprise sweep through her again. It took a few seconds to make the connection. Did he pity her because of what Mrs. Kemp had said? Was that why he had kissed her? Pride made her lift her chin, pick up her pumpkin and move away on the pretext of placing it on the end of the table. “I don’t think anyone can hurt you when they’re speaking the truth. I’m used to the fact if you’re an orphan people talk about it and if you’re considering becoming a nun people talk about it even more.”
“Does it make you angry that your parents abandoned you?”
Bridget looked at him. “Why should it? I don’t know what problems they were facing at the time. As it is, I had a very good childhood with the nuns. There were lots of rules but they were always very kind to us.”
“But now?” he asked.
“Now it seems as if I’m at a crossroads and I want to know who they are before I can get on with my life.”
“Do you have any clue beside the paper with your name on it, Bridget?” She looked surprised then realized Christy must have mentioned it to him.
About to say no, she looked up and the warmth in Andrew’s eyes was her undoing.
“There is one other thing…” she hesitated.
“What?”
She hadn’t shown it to anyone here but it seemed right to talk about it now. Since yesterday Andrew and she had reached a new plateau of trust. She took out the thin silver chain she wore around her neck with the cross. At the top of it was a small silver ring. “This”, she said showing it to him.
Even Christy and Mark didn’t know anything about it yet.
He looked at the ring. In the bright sunlight he could see the initial C engraved on the front. The design around the initial looked like a vine and leaves. The ring looked very old.
His hand came over hers and he looked at her. “If it means anything, we’ll find out.”
Warmth coursed through Bridget. When had they become a team as in we?
She blushed and then said, “Thanks Andrew.”
Toby came up to them with the wheelbarrow for moving Andrew and Frank’s pumpkin to the front. “Two of the neighbors said they’ll come early and help move it tomorrow,” he told them. “Frank’s working on his very own pumpkin in the tree house. He checked with me and I made sure he’s got all the blunt carving instruments so we don’t have to worry about him hurting himself. He took the puppies up there one at a time and the last time I checked he said they were asleep in their basket. Everything’s almost set for the party. I’m going as the same headless man as last year and I’ll be sitting out in front keeping an eye on the guests and having them sign the guest book. Never know who’s around these days and might think it a lark to join the guests in costume.”
Bridget looked at him startled and he said, “Only joking. You’ve got the attic under lock and key haven’t you? We don’t want another incident like the one with Miss B.”
Last year, one of the guests had got hold of one of the guns in the attic and fired it without realizing it was still loaded. Luckily no one had been hurt.
Bridget nodded. “The gun cabinet, the store room and the attic have been locked since Mark and Christy left unless I’m in there.”
“Then we don’t have anything to worry about.” Toby turned to Andrew. “Now that’s the best pumpkin I’ve ever seen. The details are giving me ideas for me own pumpkin next year. Who would have ever thought of carving a moustache and a beard on a pumpkin?”
Andrew looked pleased by the praise.
“Senhor Pumpkin is going to take the prize this year you mark my words.” Toby said.
“I’ll get some coffee for both of you. Smells like those cookies are ready too.” Bridget took a deep breath of the aroma of cookies baking, the scent of cinnamon in the air. “Moira and Mrs. Kemp might let us do a taste test.”
At noon with Christy and Mark on Facetime they drew for the puppies’ names. Frank said it had taken him all morning to come up with the names he wanted for the two dogs. His mother glared at him, as mothers do, and some of his excitement subsided.
“Whichever name is picked will be great,” he said quickly.
Frank drew first and they got Sheba, the name Christy had picked for A the white lab. Everyone insisted Bridget draw the next name and they got Coco the name Frank had picked for the chocolate brown lab. He was over the moon and ran off with the puppies at his heels.
Everyone agreed Sheba and Coco were great names for the dogs and then Mark and Christy said goodbye. The visit with his mother was going well.
“Think she picked Frank’s paper on purpose,” said Mr. Kemp with a huge grin on his face. He’d spent the morning making scary signs on the computer to put up all over the party area and tags for the food.
Andrew nodded. Frank’s folded piece had had dirt on the outside and he’d seen her look in the box, close her eyes and then go st
raight for it. The sleight of hand had been so well done he hadn’t thought anyone else noticed it.
“Under that quiet air is a really smart person,” Toby added. “Really smart.”
No one knew that better than Andrew.
Bridget left at one thirty Sunday afternoon telling the others she was going to get the prizes for the games. She said she’d forgotten to pick them up Friday with all the excitement of the party and the puppies. Dressed in Christy’s witch costume with some scary make up on and a dribble of lipstick meant to be blood at the corner of her mouth no one would recognize her. She took the SUV and pulled up at the old drive by theater at the outskirts of Fallen Leaf. It was used for swap meets at the weekends and the vendors were all closing shop.
Viktor had texted Andrew in code agreeing to the plan after he had heard her on the phone and Andrew had repeatedly reassured his friend that Bridget was the only person he could trust since then. Still there was a fifty fifty chance he would change his mind.
Viktor had picked the place and after she’d confirmed place and time on the phone he’d sent a message to Andrew this morning he would meet her at the main gate of the old drive by theater in Fallen Leaf Lake. It was used for swap meets now and the crowd made a good reason for him to be there.