It had been less than a week since Roger’s body was found in front of Jesse’s house, and only a few hours since Jesse and I had been in his office together, but somehow I was nervous, first-date nervous. I worried about how to tell him that, despite his request, not just me but the whole the quilt group and I had looked into the murder. I hoped, if I laid it all out, we might each have seen something in the investigation that the other had missed.
Jesse and Allie arrived promptly at seven. Everyone went into the living room to chat and have a glass of wine before we left. My mom and dad asked a lot of questions about Jesse’s job and how things in town had changed or stayed the same. He asked them about their next trip, which was planned for March. This time they were headed to Malaysia.
“Have you ever tried Malaysian food, Jesse?” my mom asked.
“Sort of an Indian and Thai mix, I would think,” he answered with an easy charm. “But no, I don’t think I have. We don’t have many exotic flavors in town, and, as Nell can tell you, I’m not exactly a gourmet cook.”
“You make a great macaroni and cheese,” Allie said.
“If there’s a box and a microwave involved, I’m your man.”
My mom laughed.
“The plan,” I told everyone, “is for Jesse and me to have dinner and then Eleanor can bring Allie home, put her to bed, and wait for us.”
“Unless Anna is back at the house, then you can just drop Allie off,” Jesse said. “She told me she would be home early.”
“Either way,” I promised, “we won’t be late.”
“Be as late as you like.”
I looked over at my mom and dad as they chatted with Jesse’s little girl. My dad took to her immediately, but my mom held back. Loving Allie would be tantamount to accepting my role as a potential stepmother and a forever resident of a small Hudson Valley town. And I could tell she wasn’t quite ready for that.
Oliver had been avoiding eye contact ever since he arrived at the house, and when he saw me watching him he immediately got into a conversation with my dad about the English sport of cricket. Before we left the house, I was determined to get him alone. So I delayed for just a few minutes and watched. When he went to the kitchen to open another bottle of wine, I followed.
“What did the doctor say?”
He shrugged. “I felt much better as the day went on.”
“So you didn’t go?” I asked. “I’m going to tell Eleanor that you weren’t feeling well this morning.”
“No, you aren’t. When you get older, you’ll see that the bones creak and the muscles ache. It’s just a part of life.”
“That’s not what was happening with you. It’s not just this morning. The other night you were short of breath. . . .”
“I think it was too heavy a box.” He put his hand on my shoulder. “Please don’t worry your grandmother with this. It’s nothing. I’m not a reckless man. Well,” he smiled, “not anymore. I would go to the doctor if I thought it was warranted.”
“But . . .”
“But nothing. Go enjoy dinner with Jesse. Love each other. Enjoy each other. Life is short, Nell, and arguing with an old man is a waste of valuable time.”
I wanted to protest, but as I reminded myself again, Oliver was an adult. I couldn’t force him to go to the doctor, and I wasn’t sure it was my place to go to Eleanor against his wishes. I gave in and let him have his way. “Okay. Bland food from now on. Don’t let my mother’s cooking do a number on your digestive system. And the next pain, I don’t care where it is—your stomach, your chest, your big toe—you are going to the doctor.”
“You’re going to be a very bossy granddaughter, aren’t you?”
“Runs in the family.”
CHAPTER 41
At the restaurant, Jesse ordered steak and I ordered pasta. We chatted about the wedding and the weather, and any subject we could think of that was noncontroversial. I was trying to find a way into the murder case, but instead I told him about my idea to create a design company as an offshoot of the shop. His eyes lit up. As we got into the details, he asked a ton of questions and had ideas of his own. The whole thing was becoming more real with each person who heard about my plans.
“Your mom is right about seeing the big quilt shows, really getting out there,” he said.
“We get most of the info on trends right at the shop. But yes, I’d love to do that. Maybe when I’m finished with school this spring, I’ll have more time.”
“Of course, if Eleanor’s gone and you’re traveling, that means taking on extra help. Or is she thinking maybe it’s time to close its doors and just go online? I think lots of businesses are doing away with the brick and mortar these days.”
“No Someday Quilts at all?”
“No building, except maybe as a shipping department. But Someday will always exist. You’ll sell your patterns, write books, and maybe get into designing fabrics. You’re always telling me about fabric designers you love, why not you?”
Dessert arrived as I was trying to wrap my mind around yet another suggestion for my career. It was time to switch topics. But just as I was about to mention the investigation, Jesse’s phone rang. He saw the number on his caller ID, answered with a quick hello, and excused himself.
While I waited, I saw Dru and Charlie enter the restaurant and sit at a table in the corner. He took her hand. She looked into his eyes. I got lost for a second in the nostalgia of the early moments of Jesse’s and my courtship.
“Sorry.” Jesse returned to the table. “Where were we?”
“Look over there.” I nodded toward Dru and Charlie.
“Are they on a date?”
“I think it’s more than that. I think they’re falling in love,” I said, and turned back to look in his beautiful green eyes. “You remember that moment when you knew that the person sitting across from you was the person you wanted to spend your life with?”
“We were in college so it was probably over pizza.”
I’m sure my face went white. I certainly felt the blood leave my body. Jesse looked up at me. At first he seemed puzzled, then finally an awareness crept across his face.
“Nell, I’m so sorry. It’s just . . .” he stammered. “I mean, she’s been on my mind a lot.”
“Tonight?”
“Well, no, no, earlier. But that was Anna on the phone. She’s at my house, so when Eleanor’s ready to drop Allie off . . .” More stammering. “She saw a picture of the four of us, her and Roger, Lizzie and me. She started talking about old times. I guess it got me thinking.”
I tried hard not to react. In my head I threw down my napkin and stormed out of the restaurant, or ran into the ladies’ room and burst into tears. But in real life I sat there silently, stabbing at my flourless chocolate cake and trying to seem calm.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m completely thoughtless. Let’s forget it, okay? I’m glad you told me about your new business venture. When you came to my office today I couldn’t figure out what it was you had on your mind.”
“Relieved?”
“A little. I figured you were going to spill some theory about Roger’s murder.”
“Would that have been so terrible?” Despite my best efforts, I felt my eyes start to tear up. “I know that I can’t compete with Lizzie’s sweetness, or be your first love, but I have helped you. You’ve actually come to me for help with cases.”
“I know. Nell, I love you—you must know that. I wish I could explain how much. And I do remember the moment I fell in love with you. You were interfering with one of my cases.” He smiled. “I wanted to be mad at you, but you were solving it for me, and you were so cute doing it. I couldn’t get over the fact that the same person who could look at a bolt of fabric and see a quilt, could look at a blood spatter report and see a killer.”
Against my better judgment, I smiled a little. But th
en the thought of Anna, waiting at Jesse’s house to spoil whatever we managed to salvage, crept into my mind. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Jesse, but I’d rather go home now.”
His jaw clenched, but he nodded. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He said the words almost to himself.
CHAPTER 42
Sunday I worked at the shop, busying myself with customers and the gazebo quilt. By the end of the day I had finished all the appliqué and had turned it over to Natalie to longarm. She’d finished the work on Eleanor’s quilt and taken it off the frame. It was a masterpiece. The individual blocks made by the group had been turned into a cohesive story by Susanne’s piecing of the top, and that story was now enhanced by hearts and feathers and even a few quilted birds.
“Stunning,” I said, and it was.
Natalie beamed. “I’m bringing it to Maggie. She’s doing the binding and label, and then it’s done. So tomorrow I’ll quilt the gazebo and help you sew the rest of the blocks for Jesse’s quilt.”
“Great.” I hadn’t said much about my dinner with Jesse except that I couldn’t find the right moment to tell him what the group had learned. There are times when you don’t want even your closest friends to weigh in on your life, and this was one of them. I certainly didn’t want to work on the quilt. Making him a double wedding ring pattern now seemed more delusional than romantic.
“And I can work for you Tuesday,” she said.
“What’s Tuesday?”
“Roger’s wake. Aren’t you going with Jesse?”
“If I can,” I said. “I have to see if everything’s ready for the wedding.”
Natalie looked a little skeptical. “Everything’s ready. So unless there’s another reason . . .”
“And all our suspects are leaving town.”
“We can solve the murder without them.” She turned off the lights in the classroom, said good-bye to Eleanor, who was still in her office, and headed out. “Have a great night.” The bell on the door tinkled as it closed.
Jesse had called during the day, and while it wasn’t unusual for me not to pick up in the middle of a busy weekend at the shop, it was unusual for me not to call back. But I didn’t. Instead, I went home and sat with my parents, looking through the photos of their adventures abroad, and then went to sleep on the lumpy mattress in the sewing room.
Monday morning I got up early and walked Barney along the river’s edge. He sniffed and rolled, and did his business, but he seemed anxious to get home to his new friend. At least his love story was working out well.
When we got back, I was confronted with a stack of boxes littering the hallway. Eleanor was in the kitchen, packing.
“Oh, good,” she said when she saw me. “I made French toast, but I think I overdid it on the cinnamon. Fry up a slice and see what you think.”
“You’re packing.”
“Yes. Obviously.”
“Are you packing everything?”
She looked at me standing there doing nothing. “The French toast.”
I moved to the stove, dipped a slice of bread into the egg and cream mixture, and put it on the already sizzling griddle. “You haven’t answered my question.”
“I have so much of everything. I have dozens of bowls and pots and whisks.” She held up three potato peelers. “Now how do you imagine I needed three? I figured I would pack up the extras for the Carolina house.”
“But you must have twenty boxes in the hallway. How much extra stuff do you need?”
“Blankets, pillows, clothes. I’m leaving most things here, of course. This is still my home, but it’s amazing what you need just to get through the day.” She fished around in a drawer until she came up with an odd little tool, a long metal rod with a tiny ice cream scoop on either end. “When did I ever need a melon baller?” She tsked at herself and dropped it into the box. “Just in case it’s the sort of thing one does to melons in South Carolina.”
I flipped over the toast and let it finish cooking, then plated it. I grabbed the bottle of maple syrup, sat at the table, and ate a bite. I wasn’t hungry, but I didn’t quite know how to start the conversation that needed to be started. “Not too much cinnamon,” I said. “It’s perfect.”
“Wonderful. I’ll start another slice for you when I’m finished with this box.”
“How’s Oliver been feeling?” I asked. Maybe if Eleanor mentioned something she’d seen I could, too. I was almost his granddaughter, so the way I saw it, I could almost interfere.
“You think he’s getting cold feet?” She laughed.
“I mean the other night with the box of encyclopedias.”
“He was trying to show off for your dad, but he’s fine. I can barely keep up.”
Maybe that was good. They were spending most of their time together, so if Oliver was having problems, she’d have seen it. And there were other things to talk about. The boxes made the topic seem urgent. “We have to talk about the shop.”
Eleanor stopped her packing and looked at me. “We do.” She left the packing, poured herself a cup of coffee, and sat opposite me. “What shall we do about it?”
“It’s not my decision.”
“It is, at least in part,” she said. “Oliver and I have three plans, and you can help me decide which one. In plan A, Oliver and I leave for South Carolina after the honeymoon. We go down until Memorial Day and then come back up for the summer and fall. I love the fall in Archers Rest. I don’t want to miss even one. In that plan, I would need someone to run the shop. I can pay the bills by computer. I do that for most of them anyway. But someone on hand needs to keep track of inventory, make sure the shop is opened and closed at the regular hours. Someone who could pick out the fabrics to order for next season . . .”
“I do some of that now.”
“Exactly. Which is why I would turn the shop over to you. It would be yours, and I’d pretty much retire. It’s about time. I know you have school starting at the end of the month and that goes until spring, so obviously you couldn’t be there full-time. Plus, there’s your pattern business. So if you decide to take over now that means hiring extra help.”
“It’s a big responsibility to run a business.”
“Yes, it is, so in plan B, Oliver and I wouldn’t go down to the new house for a few months. We’d stay here and I’d help transition you into taking over the business until you feel you’re ready. Of course, plan A and B assume you want to take over the business. The way you’ve been talking about earning a living as a quilter, you could see having your own shop as an asset, or as a liability.”
“How would it be a liability?”
“It would take a lot of your time and attention. And you just never know how things go. We’ve had a few good years, this last year especially, and that’s a lot to do with you. You’ve had great ideas. But next year or the year after . . . there are no guarantees.”
“And what’s plan C?”
“We close Someday Quilts.”
It took a moment for the words to sink in. “It’s just that easy for you, after all these years?”
“It’s not easy. I just don’t let myself think too much about it. That shop has been my home for a long time.” She blinked back a tear. “I am tired of working so hard, and I do hate these winters. I know I should have come to this decision months ago, but the house in South Carolina came up suddenly, and truth be told, I guess I didn’t want to face it. I’m sad to let go, but I’m ready.”
“If I weren’t here. If I hadn’t come to Archers Rest . . .”
“I wouldn’t have met Oliver, and I wouldn’t be packing half my kitchen to move it to South Carolina.”
“But eventually you’d want to retire.”
“I had thought I’d sell it, but I don’t want a stranger in my shop. And who else is there? Natalie has those babies, it’s all she can do to work part-time. Susanne has told me
a thousand times she’d be lost trying to run Someday. Maggie’s my age, and Carrie and Bernie have their own businesses to run.”
I could hear the rustle of other people in the house waking up. My parents would soon be downstairs, and as much as I valued their opinions, this wasn’t a group decision. Eleanor got up from the table and dipped a few more slices of bread in the batter. I heard them sizzle as they hit the hot pan.
“Don’t decide right now,” she said. “And Nell, you don’t owe me anything. Someday Quilts was my dream and I’ve achieved it. Pretty well, if I do say so myself, but if it’s time to say good-bye, so be it. You can keep the name for your patterns. I’m honored you would want to. But if running a quilt shop is too much, and I’m here to tell you that sometimes it’s all consuming, then say no, and I will be proud of you for knowing your own mind.”
Unsure of what to say, I said nothing. I didn’t want Someday Quilts to close, but did I want to make owning a quilt shop my career? Could I do it and also launch a career designing patterns?
Then there was another thing to consider. After my date on Saturday I’d begun to realize I could never live up to Jesse’s memory of his wife. Did I want to stay in Archers Rest, bumping into Jesse at every turn, if we were no longer together? As my mother had pointed out, I could run a pattern company from anywhere. Heartbreak had brought me to Archers Rest, maybe heartbreak would be the reason I left.
I didn’t say any of this to Eleanor, though. I just got up from the table, gave my grandmother a quick hug, then grabbed my coat and gloves and went out into the cold for another long walk.
CHAPTER 43
When I finally worked up the courage to call Jesse back, I asked about the funeral arrangements and he gave them to me. It was a quick conversation, full of facts and devoid of emotion. He was going down early Tuesday to help Anna, so I decided to take the train into Manhattan alone.
The Double Wedding Ring Page 19