Threads of Love

by Frances Devine

  Dewayne had always been good looking, but the years had been very kind to him. As impossible as it seemed, he’d gotten better with time. Shoulders wider, jaw more square, hair darkened to the color of ripe wheat. She gave herself a mental shake. They couldn’t go back to what they’d once had. Some hurts ran too deep, and from the tone of his voice last night, she’d given him major pain.

  She pulled her denim jacket tight against a chilly morning breeze and marched to the bus depot. The motel manager had told her it was one block over and shared space with the post office. Overly warm air assaulted her as she stepped inside. The navy blue plastic seats filling the waiting area sat empty. Approaching the counter, Zoe pasted a smile on her face.

  “Good morning. I’d like to purchase a ticket for Colorado Springs, please.” She set her suitcase down and dug in her purse for her wallet.

  “Bus doesn’t come for another three days.” The gray-haired woman behind the counter pushed wire-rimmed glasses farther up a red nose. “Will that be all right?”

  “No.” Zoe’s smiled faded. “I need to leave today.”

  “Can’t help you. Sorry.” A phlegmy cough erupted from the teller’s throat.

  “But …”

  “Sorry. Come back in three days.” The woman sneezed, closed her window, and rolled her chair back.

  Zoe was going to be late for the reunion with her cousins. She rolled her head on her shoulders, trying futilely to un-kink the stress knot. At least she had planned a few days of sightseeing. Not that Mesquite seemed to have a lot to offer.

  If Zoe hadn’t offered to work overtime at the flower shop, well … Excuses didn’t matter, and she needed every spare dime to open her floral shop. Late was late. She’d need to call her cousins and let them know they might not be able to fulfill Nana’s dying wish on the anniversary of her death after all. Her heart sank. Why couldn’t one thing in life go as planned?

  She stepped outside and squinted against the sun’s glare. Coffee sounded good. She stepped off the curb and made her way down the street to a storefront that stated simply, MESQUITE COFFEE. She doubted she’d get a java up to her usual standards, but today she couldn’t afford to be picky.

  Frozen mocha drink in hand, Zoe chose a wrought-iron chair by the window and sipped her drink while watching the occasional car drive by. How did any business thrive in this town? Why would Dewayne build an automobile repair shop here? There couldn’t be enough traffic to make the investment worthwhile.

  Not like her plans of opening a floral shop in Oklahoma City. Plenty of business there.

  Her thoughts turned to Colorado Springs and the quilt pieces she carried. Several of them were older than Nana had been. Nana hadn’t been able to piece the quilt together, not with the feud between her daughters. Said she was waiting on the pieces from them and the granddaughters. Her dying wish was for the cousins to bring them all together and piece together not only the family heirloom, but the family itself.

  On top of the stack in her suitcase sat Zoe’s personal square. She’d labored over the design for weeks. She sighed. Who would get the completed quilt? Would it be another chasm between her mother and aunts? Would it cause problems between the four cousins?

  Zoe glanced around for a phone. Nothing. And she hadn’t seen a cell phone shop anywhere either. Maybe the clerk at the motel would let her make a long-distance call. She reached for her purse, and froze. Where was her suitcase?

  Oh, no. She must’ve left it at the depot. Slinging her purse strap over her shoulder and clutching her icy drink, Zoe dashed across the street and barreled into the door. It didn’t budge. Her coffee slipped from her hand and splashed to the sidewalk. She jumped back and glanced at the sign on the door. Closed due to illness? She glanced at the post office sign. It didn’t open for another hour. What kind of town was this?

  Cupping her hands around her eyes, she peered into the dim recesses on the other side of the window. No sign of her polka-dotted suitcase containing her precious quilt squares and clean clothing.

  God, why’d you bring her back into my life? Zoe, with her dark hair shot with strands of gold and copper. Eyes that changed from blue to green with her change of emotions. He couldn’t deny he still harbored feelings for her, but they belonged buried; shoved deep, where he’d stuffed them a long time ago.

  Dewayne wanted to punch something. Instead, he pressed the button to open the stall door and listened as it rattled its way to the top. He climbed behind the wheel of his Explorer, backed the vehicle out, then closed the large metal door. He was a day behind schedule on checking his other shops. Why he chose to personally run the one in Mesquite when the manager needed time off to have surgery, only God knew. Maybe it was the peacefulness of the sleepy little town that saw more tourists than he could understand. People interested in the Mesas, canyons, and Indian ruins surrounding the area. Or maybe just people wanting to escape the hustle of city life. His home in Espanola wasn’t much different. Both had small-town charm.

  He steered down Main Street and turned at the town’s one light. He slowed at the sight of Zoe on the sidewalk, hunched over, face buried in her hands. When he stopped and rolled down the passenger window, she lifted a tear-streaked face.

  With a groan he closed his eyes, not wanting to be drawn into another one of her disasters. But, he couldn’t leave her there like a child who’d dropped her ice cream cone. He pulled into the nearest parking spot and within seconds stooped beside her.

  With his hands dangling between his knees, he peered sideways at her. “What’s up?”

  “I’ve lost my suitcase.” Zoe sniffled then pulled a Kleenex from her purse. “I accidentally left it at the depot, they don’t have a bus coming for three days, and when I returned, my bag was gone. There’s a sign saying they’re closed because of illness. What kind of town is this?”

  “So, you’re set back a few days.”

  She glared. “You don’t understand! There are quilt squares in my case that need to be in Colorado Springs by Saturday.” Her sobs began anew.

  “Why?” What could be so important about a few scraps of fabric?

  “Nana’s dying wish was that the cousins and I get together on the anniversary of her death and piece together the last quilt she designed. She divided the pieces between her daughters, hoping they’d get together and make up over a stupid fight they had. They didn’t, and now it’s up to us to bring them back together.” She jumped to her feet. “I don’t expect you to understand. It’s sentimental.”

  His neck heated. “I understand sentimental.” Most likely more than she did. He stood. “Come on. Let me buy you a burger.”

  “It’s ten o’clock in the morning.” Zoe blew her nose.

  “Then I’ll buy whatever you want.” He gripped her elbow and steered her toward the Mesquite Café.

  “Is everything in this town named after a tree?” Zoe yanked free. “I’m not hungry, Dewayne. I’m upset. I have to find my bag and meet my cousins!”

  “Call them and tell them you’ll be late.”

  “My cell phone is temporarily out of service.” She brushed past him and into the diner.

  Man, she was full of gloom today. The sun disappeared behind a cloud as if hiding from her. Dewayne followed her into the diner and waved her toward a booth. The aromas of bacon, eggs, and biscuits filled the air, along with the soothing sound of murmured voices and the shouts of food orders. “You’ll feel better with something to eat.”

  “No, I won’t.” She slid onto the red vinyl seat.

  “We’ll find your bag. It’s probably waiting behind the counter for you to claim.” Dewayne waved to the waitress, Doris. The woman seemed stuck in the sixties, with a beehive hairdo teased so high there was no telling what hid in it. “Two burger specials, please.”

  “Sure thing, sweetie.” Doris nodded and disappeared through a swinging door.

  Zoe laid her head back against the seat. “There are more people in here than I’ve seen in the entire town.”


  Dewayne chuckled. “Yeah, the diner does a good business. The locals use it mostly, but there are plenty of tourists visiting Indian ruins to generate enough income to keep it open.”

  She propped her chin in her hand. “I’m sorry for being so rude and hard to get along with.”

  “That’s all right. You’ve had a setback and lost something important to you.”

  Doris arrived with sodas and plunked them on the table then left to get the rest of their order. Zoe twirled her straw in her cup, looking dejected.

  Grabbing his own drink to hide behind, Dewayne allowed himself the freedom to study her. She was beautiful and belonged in the past. Not sitting at a table with him, looking like she’d lost her best friend. “Tell me again what’s so important that it can’t wait a day?”

  “My Nana’s quilt.” She gazed up with red-rimmed eyes.

  His gut lurched.

  “I’m meeting my cousins to fulfill Nana’s dying wish.” Zoe took a sip of her soda. “She wanted us to reunite and stitch the pieces together, along with squares that each of us made personally. How can I let my cousins know I’ve lost everything? I’m always the one who messes up.” A tear escaped and rolled down her cheek.

  Dewayne clutched his cup tighter in order to prevent himself from wiping the tear away. He didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t tell her that she didn’t mess everything up, because she did. She’d broken his heart twelve years ago. He didn’t want to care that she was hurting now. But he did. He sighed and reached across the table to lay his hand on hers.

  She pulled free, like a turtle returning to its shell, and shoved her hand in her pocket. He’d noticed her fiddling with something earlier. Maybe one of those worry stones. The Zoe he used to know was a little high-strung. Maybe she’d found something to help calm her.

  He’d let her have it her way. He crossed his arms and leaned back, the vinyl seat creaking under him. She squirmed under his gaze, not looking at him even after the waitress brought their orders.

  Snatching a french fry from his plate, he sighed. “So, are you going to tell me why you ditched me graduation night, or not?”

  Chapter 3

  Zoe spewed soda across the table and down the front of Dewayne’s T-shirt. She grabbed her napkin and blotted the mess from the table. “Why now, Dewayne?”

  “Why not?” He swirled his fry in a puddle of ketchup, piercing her with a stare.

  How could he look so calm? She couldn’t think with his sky-blue gaze fixated on her like she was a goldfish in a bowl and he was the sinister cat. “Graduation was a long time ago.”

  “Exactly. So, there shouldn’t be a problem with you clearing up a few things.” He popped the fry in his mouth.

  Zoe tore her gaze away from his lips and wadded up the soaked napkin, diverting her attention to the sprays of soda across his shirt. No way would she reach across and wipe them from his chest. His hand on hers moments ago was physical contact enough. She let out a shuddering sigh and pushed her plate aside.

  “Remember the man my mother was dating at the time?”

  Dewayne nodded. “Vaguely. A mean drunk.”

  “Well …” How could she tell him how rotten her life turned so quickly? “He turned abusive after he lost his job. Then with the falling out between her sisters and her, Mom packed up and we shipped out. I had to go or be left behind.” Zoe lifted tear-filled eyes. “I couldn’t let her leave alone. She’s always been unstable. You know that.”

  “You could’ve told me something!” Dewayne slapped the table. “Not a word, a note, a phone call. Nothing.”

  “I’m sorry.” Zoe hung her head, appetite completely gone.

  “We were going to get married, Zoe.” His face reddened. “Don’t you think I would’ve helped you and your mother?”

  “I was embarrassed.”

  “Why?”

  “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Then help me understand.” He shoved his plate against hers.

  “There’s so much I didn’t tell even you, Dewayne.” What would he think of her once he heard what she had to say? “I lied about my father dying. Mom doesn’t know who he is. Do you know what that’s like? Wondering if every man you see on the street could be your father?” She rubbed the tears from her eyes hard enough to see spots.

  “I wouldn’t have cared.”

  “I cared. Then, when Mom wanted to break off with her latest, he said he’d kill her.” Zoe waved a hand. “Not that I think he would have, but Mom was scared. She wanted to leave and have a fresh start. At least that’s what she told me. In reality, she just went from one man to another. She needed me to protect her from herself.”

  Dewayne upended his soda and drained the plastic cup before slamming it back on the table. He stood. “I’ll be back.” He whirled and slammed through the door of the men’s restroom.

  Zoe choked back a sob and stared out the window. A rusty Ford truck rumbled down the street. An elderly couple, hand-in-hand, strolled outside an antique store. What would that be like? To be with someone until old age and still be in love? Her mother hadn’t been a good role model in the love between a man and a woman department. Zoe propped her chin in her hand. Dewayne was right. She should’ve told him. But by the time they settled in Oklahoma, too much time had passed, and she didn’t know what to say.

  If not for God and the words found in Romans 8:28, Zoe wasn’t sure she wouldn’t have followed in dear Mom’s footsteps. She sighed. Mom cleaned up, Zoe almost had the funds to start her own business, and life turned out okay after all, right?

  Dewayne stormed out of the restroom. Well, almost all right. Seeing Dewayne again brought back all the love and pain she tried to shove away.

  Sliding onto the seat across from her, he released his breath in a heavy puff that ruffled Zoe’s bangs. “So now what?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You go to Colorado, then return here when your car’s fixed, and that’s it? You leave again forever?” A muscle jerked in the corner of his eye.

  Was it? Did she want to try to salvage what they once had? Could they? She studied the face she’d loved above all others. Eyes that could see to her soul, broad shoulders, strong arms that held her during many crying jags, and that cleft in the chin she loved to kiss. It would be impossible. A fleeting dream.

  She fingered the ring in her pocket. Wouldn’t it, God?

  Dewayne glanced out the window at the bus stop. Three more days? No way. She had to go before then. First thing would be to find her suitcase. Then he could drive her to the next town and put her on a bus there. In a few days, the new radiator would be in, he’d fix her car, and when she returned for it, they’d part ways and he’d never see her again. His stomach sank. Wasn’t that what he wanted? To go on with his life, not worrying about Zoe? No, he might ping-pong between wanting her to go and wanting her to stay, but he was really hoping if she spent time with him, she would want to stay. Any idea other than that was a lie. He wanted to continue their conversation. Demand she explain why she left him, but something held him back. Possibly the tears in her eyes, the major thing that always made him back down during an argument with her. No, he’d asked his questions. It was up to her to answer or not.

  “Remember my dream of opening a floral shop?” Zoe smoothed the white pieces of her torn up napkin into a mound beside her plate.

  How could he forget? They’d spent many hours during high school talking about her dream. “Yes.”

  “It’s almost a reality. I’m waiting on financing approval. Not that they can get a hold of me without my cell phone.” She waved a hand. “Sorry. You must be getting tired of my doom-and-gloom attitude.” Picking up her burger, she shrugged. “No sense in letting good food go to waste.”

  “What’s your company’s name?”

  “Zoe’s Garden.” She bit into the bacon cheeseburger. “Mmm. Good. You never mentioned wanting to own repair shops.”

  He chuckled. “Remember that street rod I had?” At her nod,
he continued. “I got addicted to axle grease. There’s nothing better than taking a car that doesn’t run and making it purr. God smiled on me, and now I own several shops.”

  “Looks like we’ve both achieved our dreams.” Zoe’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. She stuck her hand in her pocket again.

  “What do you keep fiddling with?” Dewayne handed his plate to the passing waitress.

  Her face paled. Slowly she withdrew her hand and opened her fingers. Sparkling from the center of her palm, rested the promise ring Dewayne gave her their senior year.

  Chapter 4

  You still have my ring?” Dewayne’s heart beat faster than the country swing dance at the VFW hall on a Saturday night. His mouth went dry.

  Zoe shrugged. “Funny, huh?”

  “Why?” Dewayne ran his fingers through his hair. The sight of the simple diamond chip set in a silver band threatened to steal his mind. What are You doing to me, Lord? He had long ago faced the painful fact Zoe wasn’t meant to be his. Now here she sat, mere inches away, his ring glittering in her hand.

  She rolled the glistening circle. “I wasn’t ready to give it up. I knew I had to help Mom. I spent more time taking care of her than she did me. I knew it would hurt you, but I couldn’t give it back.” She closed her fingers and thrust her fist forward. “Here.”

  “I don’t want it!” He lunged to his feet and marched out the door. No way could he survive three days in her company, nor could he drive away and leave her behind. Glancing over his shoulder, he realized he’d left Zoe to pay for their meal.

  Dewayne pounded his thigh. What an idiot, leaving her to pick up the tab. She stood at the counter, wallet in hand.

  The sun shone bright, despite a slight autumn chill. Golden oak leaves skittered across the cracked asphalt and rested against the office door of the motel. Dewayne straightened when Zoe exited the diner. “Come on. I bet your suitcase is at the motel.”