It was Claire.
“Not so fast, my friend.” Surprisingly, she had a pleasant smile on her face. And she’d called her friend.
“Claire, I—” Emma started.
Claire pulled her into a fierce hug. “I love you. I’ll never let you out of my life. Never.”
Tears welled up in Emma again. Seriously, how many times can a person cry in one day? She pulled Claire to the side to let others pass by. “I need to explain. It’s a long story. It’s about my mother.” Emma told her everything. “I never meant for it to go on forever. I’m so terribly, terribly sorry.”
Claire hugged her again. “No worries. It’s all washed out to sea. We need not speak of it again.”
Emma loved Claire so much and was so lucky to have her. But she would have to test their friendship further. Now was better than later. “There’s one more thing you need to know.”
Chapter Twenty-three
Dominic joined them, practically pushing Gabriel on Emma. “I got him, Claire, before he slipped away.”
Gabriel had on his choir robe and a grim expression. He looked heavenly to Emma, though, making her heart pound. At the same time, she was sad she’d made a mess of things with him.
Dominic pointed at her. “I like to think that you’re the less pigheaded of the two of you. I need you to work things out with him. He’s miserable without you. Which makes me miserable.”
Claire nudged Emma closer to Gabriel, too. “Fix it now. If you don’t talk, we’ll be forced to lock you in a broom closet next.”
“So, it was you two.” Gabriel gave them a disapproving look.
“Aye.” Claire went to stand by Dominic, intertwining her hand with his. The Russos beamed at each other.
“Oh, Claire.” Emma was the one to hug her friend fiercely this time. “I’m so happy for you.”
“Happy for what?” Gabriel asked.
“They’re back together,” Emma said.
Gabriel turned to Dominic. “For real?”
Dominic nodded. “For real. Now you two talk. Claire and I need to speak with Father Andrew, but we’ll be watching you.”
Claire smiled and flipped her hair. “We’re going to set a date to renew our vows.” She elbowed Emma teasingly. “Maybe make it a double ceremony with you two?”
Emma rolled her eyes as the Russos walked away, leaving her alone with Gabriel. She turned to him. “What should we talk about?” She wasn’t ready to tell him about the pregnancy here in front of God and everyone. Claire had to find out first. Besides, Emma was still getting used to the idea herself. A nice text message to Gabriel after she got back to London might be the ticket.
Gabriel looked at her sideways. “Are you feeling well?”
She deflected. “The service was lovely.”
“Aye, religion is always a safe subject. We’ll talk about politics next.”
“I mean, it was pretty. The religious rituals are nice. I think everyone enjoyed them.”
His expression softened infinitesimally. “There’s more to church than just enjoying the service. Do you really want to know my thoughts?”
“Yes.” She really did.
“I think church and the lessons we learn here are the best tools we can have in our toolbox. When life gets tough, we can pull out what we need to get us through our troubles.” He paused for a second, as if to reflect on his past and present problems. “But here’s the deal about church, Emma.”
“Yes?” she encouraged.
He leaned in. “You come from a world where anyone in your social circle can get therapy. Am I right?”
She shrugged. “Sure. All of my parents’ friends are either in therapy or used to be.”
“A lot of regular, everyday people don’t have access to counseling, like the kind of help that you give people.” He said the last as if he was proud of her. “Most people only have the support of church and its community.”
“Oh.” She’d never thought about the accessibility of therapy before. No wonder her table at Quilting Central had been graced with so many Gandiegowans wanting to talk about their problems. Speaking with them had truly been Emma’s honor. Although she might have helped them, it had also had been a blessing to her. It was rather nice to feel useful.
She gazed down at the floor and confessed, “I know what you mean. Since I’ve been here, church has been a real comfort for me.” She looked up at him. “It centers and calms me like nothing I’ve ever experienced.”
“Finally, therapy for the therapist.” He smiled. His warm eyes made her heart pirouette.
She still hadn’t been completely honest with him. “Can we go sit? I need to talk to you.” She pointed to the empty church.
Gabriel nodded and followed her. Dominic and Claire did indeed keep an eye on them as they entered the sanctuary.
After she settled into a pew, she began, “I want to clear the air between us. I know I lied to you—”
He took her hand. “Nay.”
For a moment she stared down at their linked hands—such a simple act made her so happy. She pushed on with what had to be said. “I didn’t lie directly, but I let you believe something that wasn’t true; that’s the same thing as lying, in my book. I have to tell you the truth now, though.” She told him about her mother and her desperation to keep her at bay, all the same things she’d finally confessed to Claire.
Gabriel squeezed her hand. “I understand, lass. I’ve seen yere mother on TV. I’m sure you had no choice.”
“But there’s more,” she said. “I want you to know it all. I’ve never had a real relationship.” Egghead Emma stepped out from the shadows and came into the light. Emma could finally accept her true self. “The few times I had sex were with acquaintances. I didn’t care about them—I just needed to find out what the fuss was all about. But it did nothing for me. After that, I gave up on sex completely. I decided it wasn’t important.”
“And now?” he said.
“It is.”
“What changed your mind?” He gazed at her expectantly, like he hoped he knew the answer.
She got brave and squeezed his hand back. “You did.” She paused for a moment. “I finally figured out that the only sex worth having is with someone you really care about.”
“That’s exactly what I came to realize, as well. I gave up on meaningless sex because it was just that—meaningless.”
She’d come this far and she decided to go the whole way. Spit it out. Put all her cards on the table. “I know now I never would’ve made love to you unless I truly, well, did love you.”
“Ah, lass.” He kissed her captured hands.
“Can you forgive me for being closed off, naive, and a liar?”
“Only if you can forgive me for not recognizing sooner how we were made for each other. I avoided you for years because you got to me like no other. My Emma never minced words.” He leaned over and kissed her tenderly.
His Emma. She bunched his choir robe in her hands and held on tight. She never wanted to let him go.
He pulled away. “Don’t cry, my luv.”
She swiped at her tears, smiling through them. “I’m not crying. I’m just leaking love.”
She took a deep breath. It was no good waiting to tell him about the baby. “Gabriel, I—”
Chapter Twenty-four
Emma stopped abruptly as Dominic cracked open the door and stuck his head into the sanctuary. “It’s about time you two figured things out. Father Andrew wants to turn off the lights and get over to Moira and Kenneth’s for dinner.”
Gabriel pulled Emma to her feet and tucked her into his side.
Dominic held the door open for them. “Claire and I know you want to be alone, but we’ve planned a special family dinner for the four of us at the restaurant.”
Emma looked up at Gabriel. She needed to tell him about t
he baby. And Claire, too, for that matter. She glanced at the cross hanging over the altar. Why is God keeping me from telling them this gigantic piece of truth that will affect all of our lives?
Dominic shot his brother a knowing glance. “Claire won’t take no for an answer. Whatever you two have in mind can wait until later, is what she says.”
Emma murmured, “That’s not what the pot usually says to the kettle.” Her stomach took that moment to growl. “All right, then. Let’s go eat.”
After Gabriel hung his robe and retrieved his coat, the two couples walked back to the restaurant. As they opened the door, the smell of garlic and yummy food hit Emma’s nose and made her mouth water. One table had been dressed in a gold tablecloth, garland strung down the center, and candles interspersed in the greenery. Claire lit the candles while Dominic brought in their traditional Italian Christmas feast—Italian wedding soup, lasagna, veal parmesan, tomatoes and basil, orange salad, garlic mushrooms and broccoli, fresh bread, panettone, and struffoli. Gabriel poured the wine while Emma hung their coats on the rack by the door.
Before they all sat down, Gabriel reached for Emma’s hand. “Let’s say grace.” As the four friends made a circle around the table, Emma thought she would burst with the love she felt for them. They bowed their heads, and Gabriel prayed from his heart—grateful for the many gifts they’d received, especially the gift of one another.
“Amen.”
When they sat, Gabriel raised his glass. “The first toast goes to the chefs. To Dominic and Claire. For the finest fare and the best friendship.”
They all clinked, but Emma managed to set her glass down without a sip. They dug in, and the food was perfection. As Emma reached for a second helping, the door was flung open.
Deydie stood there with two packages in her hand.
Emma stood up first. “Do you want to join us?”
Gabriel looked like she’d asked Genghis Khan to dine with them. He recovered quickly and stood, too. “We have plenty.”
Dominic was already pulling a chair over to the table, and Claire was clearing a spot for an extra plate.
“Nay, I have to get back to Graham and Caitie’s. I just wanted to bring these.” She set the bigger box on Emma’s chair but took the smaller one over to Dominic. “Open it.”
Dominic stared down at the present, puzzled. “For me?”
“Aye, for you. Now hurry it up. They’ll eat all the Christmas pudding without me,” Deydie said.
Dominic pried the lid off the box and pulled out the present—a kilt made in the Douglas plaid, Claire’s family tartan. He turned to Deydie with a confused look on his face.
“Ye’re a fine cook, Dominic. The town got together and decided to make you an honorary Scot. Go put it on. I want to see you in it before I leave.”
Claire put her arm around Deydie as he left with his kilt slung over his arm. “You’re not the tough ole bird you want us to believe, are ye?”
Deydie cackled. “If it ’tweren’t Christmas, I’d take a broom to yere backside for that cheek.”
Gabriel came to stand next to Emma, as if he couldn’t stand to be away from her. She turned her face up to smile at him, and he put an arm around her waist.
Deydie winked at her. “What’d I tell ye, lass? Everything’s going to be okay.”
Emma gave her a weak smile. She might have told Gabriel that she loved him, but she hadn’t dropped the other shoe yet. The baby shoe.
“Deydie, where’s my kilt?” Gabriel challenged.
The old woman shook her head. “Ye’re already a Scot. And any doc that can make stitches as good as ye has a place in my town. Anytime you want to learn how to quilt, I’d be right proud to be yere teacher.”
Gabriel gave her a genuine smile. “That means a lot coming from you.”
Dominic came out and proudly modeled his new look.
Claire whistled. “You were born to wear a kilt. Spin around so I can get a good look at you.”
“The Douglas tartan fits ye well,” Deydie said. Then she turned and pointed to the other box. “Emma, that’s for you to give the doc. Now I need to get going.”
“Wait.” Claire grabbed the bread basket and dumped its contents into a napkin, tying the ends. Dominic nabbed a bottle of wine from the rack. They both got to Deydie before she lumbered out the door.
“For ye and yours,” Claire said.
“Happy Christmas.” Dominic kissed her cheek. “Thank you for the kilt.”
“’Twasn’t me, I told ye. It was the town.”
“I know,” Dominic said, smiling.
Deydie gathered the items into her arms, gave Emma a bolstering nod, and waved to them all at the door with the wine bottle in her hand. “Good night to ye,” she said, and was gone.
As soon as the door shut behind her, Claire turned to Emma. “Help me get the dishes cleared. I need to get my man upstairs and de-kilt him.”
“What about my present?” Gabriel asked.
“You and Emma can open it back at your place or the dorm,” Claire said. “I’m a wee bit impatient to get my husband alone.” She gave Dominic a smoldering look as she grabbed the empty bread basket.
“What happened to it can wait until later?” Emma asked.
Claire winked at her. “It’s later, don’t you think?”
Emma picked up the lasagna dish, hoping this was the right time to come clean with her friend.
When the two of them were behind the kitchen doors, Emma grabbed her arm. “There’s still something you need to know.”
“What, Emms? Is everything okay? You and Gabriel seem happy.”
Emma chewed her lip. “I have news and I’m worried how you’re going to take it.”
“Nothing could spoil this perfect Christmas,” Claire assured her.
Emma took her hand. “First, I want you to know that I’d never do anything on purpose to hurt you. You are the sister of my heart.”
“I know.” Claire looked back at her lovingly.
“But accidents happen.”
Claire looked worried, but put on a brave face. “It’ll be fine, whatever it is.”
Emma took a deep breath. “Claire, I’m pregnant. I just found out.”
Claire stood, spellbound. “You’re pregnant?” she whispered.
Emma nodded and waited, not able to breathe until Claire said something more.
“Oh, Emma.” Claire pulled her into her arms and hugged the stuffing out of her. “I couldn’t be happier. Really!”
“So you’re not upset with me?” Emma said tentatively.
“Nay. Dominic and I talked. We’re going to wait to have a bairn. I’m not ready yet. Amy’s baby showed me a thing or two about what it takes to have a babe.” Claire squealed. “But I’ll love being an auntie and practicing my baby skills on yere wee one.” She stopped for a moment. “Does Gabriel know?”
“Not yet.”
“Well, you’d better get to it before I blab the news to Dominic and the whole damn town knows.” Claire pushed Emma toward the double swinging doors. “Dom and I’ll clean up this mess. You go talk to your man.”
When Emma marched into the dining room, the men looked up. “I’ve been banned from the kitchen.” She pulled their winter jackets from their hooks and turned to Gabriel. “Are you ready to go?”
He raised one eyebrow at her. “What do you think?”
“I think it’s a yes.”
“A resounding yes.” He helped her into her coat.
Emma turned to Dominic. “Thanks for everything.”
Dominic nodded, but his thoughts seemed to be elsewhere. Perhaps on the feisty Scottish woman washing dishes in the kitchen.
When they got outside, Emma looked up at Gabriel. “Your place or mine?”
“Mine.” He took the box from her. “Here, hold my arm. It’s getting a
little slippery.”
She grabbed hold of him and let his strength guide her over the path that led to the doctor’s quarters. At his place, they went upstairs into the living room. Gabriel set the box on the sofa and pulled Emma into his arms for a long, tender kiss. He seemed in no hurry, letting the kiss speak for him of love and steadfastness, forever and commitment. When he ended the kiss, he pulled her to the sofa, next to the Christmas present she’d wrapped.
“What’s in it?” He beamed at her and she got a glimpse of the boy he once was.
He untied the bow and pulled out the beautiful quilt, unfolding it. He flipped it around, looking as if he were taking it all in.
She smiled, happy with how it had turned out. At a distance, the scrappy blues had come together with a four-sided motif in the center with Log Cabin blocks accentuating its presence. The rest of the quilt had blue stars that Emma thought were stunning. She wanted to take back her less than kind thoughts toward the village quilters. They hadn’t wanted Gabriel to have a scrappy mess of a quilt; they’d wanted him to have something unique and special.
Emma loved Gabriel’s thrilled expression, too. She stood, taking the other end and holding it up. “It’s called the Gandiegow Doctor quilt. It’s an old Gandiegowan tradition. Whenever a new doctor comes into the village, they give him a quilt his first Christmas here.” She turned the quilt so he could see. “It has baby William’s name and birthdate right there. Whenever a new baby is born, a patch will be sewn on with the babe’s name.” She thought of her own babe growing inside her—Gabriel’s baby—and her cheeks flushed. Our baby’s name will be on this quilt, too.
“What’s this?” He had found the tag. “You made this quilt, Emma?” He stared at her in wonder.
“Yes.” She gave him a sheepish smile.
“This quilt means even more, knowing that you were the one to make it.” He pulled her down to his level and kissed her again.
She cut it short, though. She still had to tell him about the baby, before things got too out of hand. Her mouth went suddenly dry. “I’m thirsty. Do you mind fixing me a glass of water?”
Meet Me in Scotland Page 31