Embraceable You (Irish Hearts Series)

by Mary Tate Engels

Claire on the phone

  "Come along, my Lacy Ladies! Let's gather at Addie's. Bring your lace. I believe we've got our new blood. But we'd better hurry before Zach gets to her. I'm afraid we may be too late."

  Siena ran upstairs to the apartment above Amazing Lace. Grabbing her suitcase, she began digging for clean clothes. She felt something boring into her and looked up. In the dim morning light, there were two furry faces with big yellow eyes, watching her. Sally and Harry sat side by side, staring without blinking. Observing her every move. Guardians of Aunt Addie's domain.

  "Don’t you-two ever sleep? Or sleep in? I’ll look for a new home for you today. You are miserable, I know. This can’t continue."

  Neither cat moved. No gentle purring. They continued to stare at her.

  Siena pulled a couple of items from her luggage. "You’re probably wondering where Aunt Addie is. The news is not good, kitties. She isn’t coming back. She’s gone on to her next dimension, as Dana would say. The spirit world. Maybe you have a connection. They say cats are… whatever. But here on earth, all you have is me – and George – until I find you a good home. Which, God willing, will be today. Maybe George is interested."

  Siena walked to a window. Even at this ungodly early hour, there were several lights on in town. The cats followed her. One issued a soft meow.

  Outside, everything lay in solemn, white splendor. She could almost hear the snow glistening in the early morning sunlight. She had to admit, Haven’s Point was postcard quality. If she wanted to design a beautiful place to be, right outside her window was it.

  But, like the mess of her life, she knew that all the flaws of this town were hidden beneath the beauty of the snow. And there had to be flaws. Nothing was perfect. Not her life; not this town; not Zach. Well, maybe almost. His kiss, and the way he made love, inspired her to greater heights. And sexually, she'd reached the pinnacle. More than once, apparently. It was strange that they seemed to pick up where they’d left off so many years ago. Or maybe it was just the magic of the night.

  Zach was familiar, yet different. And thoughts of exploring those differences were exciting. Being with Zach added a new and sensuous dimension to her life that she hadn’t realized was missing. And it just showed how much her relationship with Warren was lacking. Good sex, for one.

  One of the cats emitted a deep mee-oowing, almost a growling sound. Then it hit her. The damn cats were hungry. Of course! She tossed a handful of dry food in each kitty-face bowl, one blue, the other pink.

  "You two are pretty darn lucky. You were loved by Aunt Addie. You were saved by Zach with a little help from George. Clanging on the cat food can was genius. And now, I’m going to find you a special home. Then everything will be just ducky. Or cat-tastic. Sorry, couldn’t resist." She laughed at herself, talking out loud to the cats.

  Harry and Sally sat beside their bowls, not eating, and stared at her. 'We are not amused,' they seemed to say.

  "Go ahead. Eat! I won’t watch. You cats are so cattitudinal." Siena walked around the apartment. It was as if Aunt Addie expected her. The pantry was stocked to the gills with plenty of spices, tea, and locally canned fruits and vegetables, probably gifts from her friends. There were little notes on how to feed Harry and Sally and where to adjust the thermostat.

  Propped on a shelf was the recipe for her famous Wild Blueberry Crunch with its secret ingredient, finely chopped jalapeño peppers. The note said: "For my Lacy Ladies, every Wednesday."

  "Wednesday? Today?" Siena muttered aloud. "Ha! That isn’t going to happen." She fixed herself a cup of Irish Breakfast Tea and noticed the cats were finally nibbling their food.

  Until last night, Zach had just been a memory, a fantasy frozen in time. At first sight, it all came flashing back - the tingles, the chills, the rush. Over the years, she’d experienced fickle friends, deceitful fiancés, job politics and struggling to find herself – again and again. Maybe it was time for some fun with an old boyfriend. And when she left town, she’d kiss him on both cheeks, pat his sweet butt, thank him for a good time, and bid him farewell again.

  Oh yes, she could have her own good time and leave this place easily. Siena took a quick shower and while still wrapped in a towel, she heard noises downstairs in the shop. Immediately, Harry and Sally took off on quick cat feet. Siena threw on a pair of black leggings and her favorite long, loose sweater with a moose-face and huge antlers on the front before bounding downstairs.

  There were three cheerful ladies futzing around as if they owned the place. One large-chested woman stepped forward. "Welcome to our sad little world Dana, you probably don't remember me, but – "

  "I'm not Dana. I'm Siena. Dana's daughter."

  Siena was caught up in a bear hug, crushed against the woman's bosom. "Ahh, Siena, all grown up. Glory be, we're glad to see you. I’m Claire Fairchild. Addie and I were dear, dear friends. She was like my sister I never had. We are so sad to lose her. She and I were rebel-leaders in town." She patted the French twist of her red-from-a-bottle hair. "And damn proud of it, too." Her Irish brogue blended nicely with a broad-voweled Maine dialect.

  The next woman clasped Siena’s hand warmly. "My, you’ve grown up beautifully, Siena. I’m Roberta, Roberta Cassidy. I taught you to crochet one summer. Remember? We loved Addie so much . . ." She paused to wipe a tear.

  Siena braced for another hug, but Roberta just sandwiched her hand and squeezed. Siena barely recognized Zach’s long-suffering mother. Everyone felt sorry for her because she had been married to a drunk and had to finish raising three kids by herself. Word was that her husband, Zach's father, took his boat out fishing, apparently inebriated, and drowned. Today Roberta looked pale and gaunt, her face dwarfed by a huge wig that looked like Raquel Welsh's hair. Zach said she was doing well after her cancer treatment, but it obviously left her affected.

  The next woman pushed into her view. "I’m Carrie Nichols. We’re missing your wonderful auntie so much, but she said you’d know how to make our lace magical again, which was her word for profitable."

  "Now Carrie, you're getting ahead of yourself. Siena just got here. Give her time," Claire said.

  Siena shook her head. "Sorry, but I don’t know one thing about lace. Or how to make it profitable."

  But no one was listening to her because they all proceeded to do their thing. And talk. They looked like large, colorful birds. Claire was the big-breasted robin, leading the way. Carrie's straight brown hair, parted in the middle with bangs, and dark-rimmed glasses made her look like an owl, but a charming owl. Roberta looked like a swallow, her slender face surrounded by that damn big haired wig.

  "I hope you don't mind, but we always come in on Wednesdays to make our lace and chat a bit. Addie entrusted us with a key, so we come here to work, snow or shine." Claire picked up a pair of sunglasses that had fallen to the floor and adjusted the rack that held about thirty of them.

  "But we’re so glad you're here." Roberta followed, straightening a feather mask. "To take over."

  Siena folded her arms and shook her head. "Uh, ladies . . ."

  "Addie was the best cook. Put us all to shame. I brought some scones this time. Not bad, if I do say so myself." Carrie placed a basket on the counter. "We have to pick up where Addie left off, right?"

  "This is our day for needlework," Roberta said. "Addie would have a fit if we missed a week. She would say we let our power sift through our fingers."

  "But we – I – need time," Siena said. "I just arrived last night."

  "Yes, we know." Claire put her bag on a chair and started digging into it.

  "We won’t get in your way. You just go ahead and do whatever." Roberta adjusted her glasses. "We'll watch the store."

  "You’ve probably guessed that we’re the Lacy Ladies," Claire said with a laugh, pulling up her lace work. "Addie called us that and we rather liked it. She said you would figure out what to do with our lovely hand-made lace."

  Siena felt something between sympathy and real pain. "Look Ladies, I really don�
��t think I can – "

  "We know, dear. No pressure, of course," Claire said, patting her hand. "Just do what you can. You’re our new blood. Probably know all about that social media stuff and more. Do you have a Kindle?"

  Siena nodded and Claire continued, as if a question wasn’t asked. "I just hate the thought of those flat little boxes holding my beloved books, but my darling daughter got me one for my birthday last year and I must admit, I read faster with it. Oh, that sounds silly, doesn’t it?"

  Roberta lifted a display box filled with various kinds, shapes and colors of hand-made lace doilies. "They aren’t fast movers, are they? I think we should make all this into Heart’s Desire Pillows."

  "They do need a better display," Siena admitted. "Do what with them? Make pillows?"

  Carrie held a teapot up. "Mind if I run upstairs for some water for our tea? We always did when Addie was here."

  "No, but – " Siena did not want to spend the morning having tea with these well-intentioned ladies making their freakin’ lace.

  "Not to worry. We can take perfectly good care of ourselves. We fill our hotpot, plug it in and tea’s on the way." Carrie started for the stairs. "Come on Harry and Sally. I’ve got a treat for you."

  "Oh wait, ladies." Siena was losing ground by the minute. "Today, actually, I hadn’t planned on opening."

  "No matter." Claire waved her hand. "Sometimes people come in just to watch us work our lace, and they turn into customers. Isn’t that what we want?"

  "Customers, yes," answered Roberta with a laugh. "We’ve learned that much from Addie."

  Siena glanced out the window wondering where customers would come from on a day like this. Most shops around were closed.

  "She wanted to sell our lace along with lingerie," Claire said wistfully. "She thought they were a natural pair, so to speak. But the town fathers frowned on it."

  "Frowned?" Roberta clasped her forehead, mocking a major headache. "There was practically a rebellion!" She crossed her arms and mocked a man’s voice. "We’ll have no skivvies on display in our town!"

  "Skivvies! Can you believe it?" Claire straightened a couple of books on a shelf. "Talk about old-fashioned. So I came up with the idea of lacy angels. That's what I made when I was a girl, back in Ireland. Roberta's idea was the lacy heart's desire pillows. But they've all grown stale and we just can't sell them anymore."

  "I can prove the magic works. I made a wish with my lace pillow, and it came true. Almost," Roberta claimed seriously. "We also make little sachets, for the tooth fairy and such."

  Siena shook her head. Was this the Twenty-first Century or had she crossed into some time warp? "A wish? On an angel or pillow? This just can't be."

  "Don’t you want to know what I wished?"

  "Yes." What else could she say?

  "That my children would come back home for Christmas. And they did. Zoey came first and took over the kitchen. Said she wanted to make sure I ate all the right things. Then Zach decided to return and became Mayor. And Zane even brought his baby son for a visit from D.C. while his wife was on a secret mission in the Middle East." She smiled with such angelic expression that it broke Siena’s heart.

  "Siena, we hope you’ll be happy here in Haven’s Point. We have a few good men, if you’re interested, including Roberta’s son, the mayor. Do you know Zach?" Carrie asked as she plugged in the hotpot to heat water for tea.

  "Uh, we’ve met." Visions of sugarplums danced in her head. If these lovely ladies only knew!

  "Met?" Roberta laughed. "Why they used to be sweethearts, all those years ago. When they were just kids."

  "I’m afraid my niece, Monique, has her heart set on capturing our fine mayor," Claire said with a wink. "He saved her life, you know, and now they’re almost engaged."

  Siena blinked at Claire, then at Roberta. Zach was engaged? What the hell! That certainly banished any lingering fantasies with the old boyfriend. And why did he lure her to his bed if he were engaged? "He saved her?"

  "Last winter, snow up to our knees, Monique was skating and fell through the ice on the lake," Roberta said. "A bunch of young people were skating and playing hockey out there. Too much goings-on and not enough of paying attention. Suddenly she was down in the icy pit. Could have died right then and there from hypothermia."

  Claire picked up the tale. "And it took the rescue crew so long to get there that Zach and a friend shoved an old kayak out onto the ice and pulled her to safety with that thing. My, my they’re such clever, strong fellows." She placed four delicate teacups on the counter.

  "Oh yes," Carrie added. "Everyone was so very proud of him that they elected him mayor after that." The teapot whistled and she poured the tea while Claire unveiled the scones.

  A sweet bread aroma filled the air and Siena was swept into warm memories of cooking with Aunt Addie.

  "Y’know, the amazing thing was that Zach never took credit for it by himself. Said it was a team effort and that became his campaign slogan. All of us, pulling together, can make it. And by faith, it worked." Claire took a bite of a blueberry scone. "Carrie, these are downright delicious!"

  "How very . . . heroic," Siena said. She felt sick. What an intruder – a fake - she was. She rode into town and became the other woman, just like the receptionist at her old company with Warren.

  The Lacy Ladies would not hush. They stayed all morning, sipping tea, nibbling scones, and creating their fine-needled lace. They showed Siena the differences between needlepoint, tatting and basic crochet lace; appliqué lace and Italian cut point; and old Irish laces like Montmellick and Carrickmacross. And she found herself admiring the delicate beauty of the tiny stitches.

  "There are an even dozen of us lace makers in town," Roberta said. "But we try not to all descend on Addie’s shop at once. There’s hardly room."

  Carrie picked up the conversation. "Each of us has a different style that we prefer. But we all make the lace huggies. They’re so easy and fun. If only we could sell them."

  "You can make one while watching the TV news every night. Which is why we’ve ended up with so many," Roberta said.

  "What?" Siena asked. "Huggies?" She put her hand to her forehead, trying to grasp the concept.

  "We called them huggies long before those diaper people used our name," Roberta said. "But we couldn't do anything about it because we didn't have a copyright or any right at all."

  Siena shook her head, perplexed by the idea.

  "You know, little socks for glasses or cups that keep them from dripping or marking the table. Only we made ours of lace. Like coasters. And Claire designed one for a tea cup, so cute and fancy with a ruffled edge."

  "Then the bottom fell out for coasters. Can’t sell the little darlings for love ‘nor money. Here, I’ll show you."

  Claire opened the stock room door and pulled out a large plastic garbage bag full of lace coasters. "Probably have about a thousand," she mused.

  Siena was momentarily speechless. "What – why? Why keep making them if there’s no market for them?"

  "Addie said we would find a market someday and they would be a power source." Roberta sighed. "Maybe she meant loss leader. Looks like we'll have to give them away to get rid of them, if we can find anyone who wants them."

  Siena just shook her head. She couldn’t bring herself to kick the Lacy Ladies out, so she made herself busy around the shop, rearranging products, checking on supplies, and making mental notes on everything. Behind the bag of lace huggies, she found an interesting item. "Hey, anyone know this lady?"

  The women put down their stitchery and gathered around.

  "Oh, it’s Venus," said Claire wistfully.

  Roberta put one hand on her heart. "Luciano was so artistic. He made her for Addie, carved from a local birch. Isn’t she beautiful?"

  "Addie named her Venus," said Claire. "She was good at naming things."

  Siena stood back and examined the exquisite, four-foot tall hand-carved manikin. "She’s a beauty. I guess Venus is a good name fo
r her." After a few minutes, Siena asked, "Who’s Luciano?"

  "Don’t you know?" Carrie smiled and seemed proud that they knew some secret that Siena didn’t know. "He was Addie’s lover, who she claimed as her husband. He was tragically killed on the high seas, or so we were told. And she never married again."

  "Some said he went back to Italy where he had a family. But we never believed that. He wouldn’t leave Addie like that. He loved her too much." Claire glared at Carrie. "She believed he died at sea, and so do we."

  "I didn’t know Aunt Addie had uh, anyone," Siena said trying to imagine her white-haired aunt in a man’s embrace. She admired Venus’ feminine beauty and voluptuous assets, carved from the hands of a man who undoubtedly knew Aunt Addie’s youthful beauty.

  "Oh yes, he made all our stained glass mermaids around town. Even has one hanging in the Smithsonian, I hear."

  "He made the mermaids over the door?" Siena walked over and looked at it.

  "Oh yes. And many more. They’re all tucked away because they reveal more than they should. According to some."

  As Siena listened to their stories, she felt a small connection with the Lacy Ladies and especially Aunt Addie. No matter what their ages, they all had similar desires for love and happiness. And they all suffered broken hearts at some time or other, just like she did.

  "I think," Siena stated firmly, "that Venus has been in hiding long enough. We need to bring her out of the storeroom and into the light."

  So, with the Lacy Ladies’ help, she created a lacy display on Venus that was sure to attract attention – and hopefully sell some lace. And just to make sure she’d be seen, they moved Venus into the front show window.

  And damn, they left before Siena thought to ask if they knew anyone who would be willing to take the cats. But Carrie seemed a good candidate since she’s the one who brought treats for them.

  Zach showed up at the shop just as she was about to close that day. Her feet were suddenly clay, unmovable, locking her to the floor. She just stared at him, heart pounding, remembering, reliving their lovemaking. And trying to forget.