Silver Threads

by Bette Lee Crosby

  He nodded.

  For several minutes they tried to chat between announcements of the next chamber meeting and charitable endeavors that needed assistance, but it ended up being only a few words here and there. It was enough.

  “Well, since we’ve supposedly never met before and aren’t in the same business, would you mind if I called you for something other than business?” Drew asked.

  Again she smiled at him, and again he felt the thundering of his heart.

  “I’d like that,” Elizabeth said. Then she reached into her purse, pulled out a business card and handed it to him. “Liz Cunningham, Branch Manager” it read.

  At the start of the evening Drew had a pocket full of business cards, but one by one he’d handed them all out. Now he was left with only an empty pocket. He gave an apologetic smile and stammered something about giving his last card to the fellow from Saint Andrew’s.

  By the time the loudspeaker died down, a number of the guests were already out the door. Elizabeth made no attempt to leave; neither did Drew. But as they stood there talking, Kevin tapped Drew on the shoulder.

  “Let’s get going,” he said. “My car is blocking Henry Larimore’s.”

  Again Drew apologized. “I’ll call you.”

  “I’ll look forward to it,” she said, but there skepticism in her eyes.

  As he and Kevin were on their way out the door Drew looked back, but by then Liz was gone.

  Elizabeth

  There are times when you meet someone you think is truly special, and you can almost swear the earth has moved beneath your feet. I had that kind of feeling when Drew smiled at me from across the room. Then when he came over, I thought for sure this was something meant to be. When he asked if we’d ever met before, I almost told him I had the exact same feeling. Because I did. I felt like we had a connection, the kind that links one person to another. It wasn’t just that he smiled or came over; it was like his hand reached out and touched my heart.

  Obviously I was wrong.

  The bit about not having a business card is as old as the hills. When Muriel Willis went to the Housewares Trade Show, she fell for the same line and ended up with a guy who had a wife and seven kids. They went together for three years before she found out the truth, and when she finally did it almost broke her heart.

  And the friend telling him it’s time to leave, that was another thing. It’s like the pre-planned emergency call for when a date is turning sour.

  No, thanks. After what I went through with Elliott, I am not about to get mixed up in another fiasco. I’ve finally gotten my life together, and I’m feeling good about who I am. Being single and living alone is better than having your heart torn out by a man with swept-under-the rug intentions.

  If this Hugh or Drew or whatever-his-name-is does actually call, I’ll just say I’m too busy to play games. Chances are he won’t even call, so I probably don’t have to worry about what I will or won’t say.

  The Big Surprise

  When Kevin dropped him off at the plant, Drew headed for his office rather than starting for home. It wasn’t necessary and he knew it, but it was something to do. Something, perhaps, to take his mind off the woman he’d met.

  He chatted with Pete, the evening foreman, for a few minutes, took a second look at the Kline’s catalog they were running, then settled at his desk and scanned through several e-mails. He looked at each one then clicked “Mark unread” and moved on to the next one. All were things that could be done the next day, and tonight he simply had other things on his mind.

  It was ten-thirty when Drew arrived home. He came through the garage and snapped on the kitchen light. Without Brooke around, the house seemed eerily silent. Even though she was usually in bed and fast asleep by this time, tonight it was different. Tonight the silence picked at Drew’s thoughts.

  Try as he might, he could not get Liz out of his mind. He lowered his face into his hands and closed his eyes. The image of her was still there. He pictured the velvety brown of her eyes, the crooked little smile that hiked the right side of her mouth higher than the left and the touch of her hand in his. He felt something he didn’t want to feel. Something he wasn’t ready for.

  The following week would be the one-year anniversary of Jennifer’s death. It was too soon. He had Brooke to think about. First and foremost, he had to be a father, a man dedicated to his child, not a man giving himself to passion. But still…

  Drew pulled Liz’s business card from his pocket, laid it on the table and sat there studying it. He’d said he would call; shouldn’t he at least do that? But then what?

  Realizing sleep would be impossible to come by, Drew went to the cupboard and took out the tin of dandelion tea Annie had given him. He thought back on the weeks they’d spent at Memory House and how she’d served him a cup of the tea every evening. She’d said it was a brew good for relaxing the mind, and he had in fact slept like a baby. He dropped the silken tea pouch into a mug then poured boiling water over it and waited. As he stood there watching the water go from clear to the blushed yellow of a tea rose, he thought of both Jennifer and Liz.

  They were different in so many ways. He pictured Liz with her dark eyes and a cluster of autumn colored curls framing her face; then he thought of Jennifer, so like Brooke, with the summer sky reflected in her eyes and hair golden as the sun. Yes, they were different and yet in an odd way alike.

  Once the tea was ready, he stood alongside the counter and sipped it slowly. On any other evening he would have sat at the table but tonight he was too edgy, too full of thoughts and feelings he couldn’t understand. At long last when weariness overtook him, he trudged upstairs and climbed into bed.

  ~ ~ ~

  He heard the voice and recognized it as Jennifer’s.

  “You’re making this far more difficult than it should be,” she said.

  “You’re wrong,” he argued. “How can there be an easy answer when I have you and Brooke to think about?”

  “You don’t—”

  “Don’t what?” he asked.

  “You don’t have me. I’m just a memory.” She turned to him, her eyes soft with a look of serenity. “I said this day would come; now it’s here.”

  “I don’t understand,” Drew said. “What’s here?”

  “The happier life I promised.”

  “I’m not looking for a happier life,” he replied. He reached out to pull her into his arms, but there was nothing to hold on to. She was there but not there.

  She smiled a bittersweet smile. “It’s time to move on. You’ve found someone who will love you and Brooke as I did. Let go of the past and look to the future.”

  Although nothing moved but the soft breeze that ruffled her hair, he felt her hand touch his heart and then pull away.

  “Stay with me!” he cried.

  “I’ll always be with you,” she whispered. “As a memory.”

  He felt her lips brush against the side of his cheek as she had done a thousand times before; then she moved away from him.

  “Wait,” he called. “I need to know what you want me to do!”

  When there was little more than a shadow of where she’d stood, he heard her final words.

  “To find happiness, look through our child’s eyes,” she said.

  After that there was only a blinding whiteness.

  ~ ~ ~

  Pulling himself from the dream, Drew rubbed the sleep from his eyes and sat up.

  It was already seven o’clock. He hurried downstairs, set the coffee pot to brew then came back up for a shower and shave.

  Afterward as he sat at the kitchen table his eye caught sight of Liz Cunningham’s business card. He picked it up and slid it into his blazer pocket. For a reason that he couldn’t readily identify, he’d decided to wear the camelhair blazer for a second day. On the drive to work he thought about the dream and about the feeling that stirred his heart when he held Liz Cunningham’s hand in his.

  By the time he pulled into his assigned parking spo
t he’d decided.

  Not wanting to seem overanxious, he waited until almost ten then dialed the number on the card she’d given him. The phone rang twice. A youthful voice answered.

  “Heartland Bank,” she said. “How may I help you?”

  He asked to speak to Liz Cunningham.

  “May I ask who’s calling?”

  “Drew Bishop.” He hesitated then, trying to make it sound like a legitimate business call, added, “Southfield Printing.”

  “Please hold, I’ll see if she’s available.”

  The woman pushed mute then buzzed Liz’s office. “Drew Bishop of Southfield Printing is on line one; are you available?”

  Liz hadn’t expected him to call, so she wasn’t prepared. She didn’t say anything for a moment, and the girl asked if she should get one of the customer service reps to handle the call.

  “No,” Liz answered. “Put him through.”

  His voice sounded nicer than she remembered.

  “I’m sorry for running off last night,” he said. “My assistant manager’s car was blocking someone else so—”

  Liz was still undecided as to how she felt about Mister Drew Bishop, so her voice was a bit on the cool side.

  “Yes,” she said. “I heard him tell you that.”

  Drew caught the hint of an attitude in her answer and wondered if maybe he’d made a mistake.

  “That was my first time at a chamber event,” he explained. “Kevin had offered to introduce me around, and since I’m rather new in town—”

  Liz laughed without meaning to. “I’m new in town too. I’ve only been at the bank for about two months.”

  “Five months for me,” Drew admitted.

  From that point on the conversation became lighter and cordial. They talked for almost ten minutes; then he asked if she could get away for lunch. Although she’d brought a sandwich from home figuring she’d eat at her desk, Liz said she had no plans.

  They met at Rodolfo’s and sat across from one another in a brown leather booth. As they settled in Drew asked if she’d like a glass of wine.

  She gave a mischievous grin and said, “Okay, but just one. I have to go back to work this afternoon.”

  He laughed. “So do I.” He motioned for the waitress then turned back to Liz. “You like red, right?”

  “How did you know?”

  “I didn’t, but since that’s what you were drinking last night…”

  “Good guess,” she said, smiling again, this time at the fact that he remembered.

  For a short while their conversation centered on the town, the business community and the spring festival the chamber of commerce was planning. When the first glass of wine was finished, they ordered a second and a pizza to share. Without ever realizing it was happening, Liz let down her guard. And when Drew told of how he’d seen her from across the room and given away his last business card to break free of Peter McMillan, she giggled like a schoolgirl.

  Smiling at the sound of her laughter, Drew leaned in and said, “Luckily I made it over there before you got away.”

  “I wasn’t trying to get away,” Liz replied.

  Drew was handsomer than she remembered, and without the loudspeaker crackling in her ear the conversation took on a soft and easy flow. It was able to move from one subject to another without any bumps or blank spots. When he asked what brought her to town, she said the job at the bank and left out any mention of Elliott or the scandal he’d caused.

  “I’ve been in banking for my whole career,” she told him. “I started out as a teller with Connecticut Trust and worked my way up. When this job came along I felt it was a great opportunity.”

  With his eyes fixed on her face he asked if she was happy living in the area.

  That was the thing she liked. The way he looked at her. It was a look that said more than words ever could.

  “Very much,” she replied. “I found a wonderful little apartment, and I’m starting to make friends.”

  “This is an easy place to make friends,” Drew said. “I’ve spent most of my career as a lone wolf salesman, and I didn’t realize how different it is being part of a team. It’s a big change, and I must say I’m enjoying it.”

  He added that the job allowed him to spend more time with his family.

  Liz’s spine stiffened. “Family?”

  “I have a daughter.” Drew reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He flipped it open to the photograph of Brooke and handed it to Liz. “This is—”

  “Brooke,” Liz said, finishing his sentence.

  Drew’s eyes grew big as he sat there looking thunderstruck. “How did you—”

  Liz’s mouth curled into a lopsided grin. “I’m Miss Elizabeth. But Brooke is the only one who calls me that.”

  “You’re kidding!”

  “No, I’m not. I met Brooke when I stayed at Memory House.”

  “Wow.” He shook his head in amazement. “This is almost unbelievable. You’re nothing like I imagined Miss Elizabeth to be.”

  Uncertain of what he meant, Liz said, “I hope you’re not too disappointed.”

  Drew gave a deep-throated laugh. “I’m not at all disappointed, I’m delighted.” He chuckled and shook his head again. “Miss Elizabeth. Imagine that.”

  When the shock of it began to wear off he asked, “But how did you—”

  “When Brooke came to babysit the twins, she and I used to talk…” Liz hesitated then let her thoughts come to the surface. “I never had any children, and Brooke is an easy child to love.”

  Drew nodded. “Yes, she is.”

  A look of caring remembrance settled on Liz’s face. “Brooke and I both had an empty spot in our hearts, and I suppose our relationship filled that spot for both of us. I’ve become very fond of her.”

  She allowed her eyes to linger on his face and in a soft voice added, “I hope that’s okay.”

  “Okay?” Drew laughed. “It’s flat out wonderful!”

  Liz exhaled a deep sigh of relief.

  Although it would be months before he would tell Liz of the dream he’d had, Drew knew this was what Jennifer meant when she said “to find happiness look through our child’s eyes.”

  Drew didn’t get back to the plant until after three that afternoon, and when he finally did get there he went in whistling. By then he and Liz had decided not to tell Brooke that they’d met but to wait and let her do the introduction.

  Dinner Guest

  That same evening Drew asked Brooke if she was still interested in having Miss Elizabeth over for dinner. She gave an enthusiastic nod and asked when.

  “Well, the plant is a bit slow right now,” Drew said, “so I was thinking maybe this weekend. How about Sunday?”

  “Yes, yes, yes!” Brooke squealed. “We could make a fancy dinner with cake and ice cream…” Her eyes sparkled as she ran through a dozen different thoughts of what they could serve.

  “Before we start planning a big fancy dinner, don’t you think you should call Miss Elizabeth and ask if she can come?”

  “She’ll come,” Brooke replied confidently. “I’m sure she’ll come.” Taking her cell phone from her pocket, she pulled up the Contacts menu and tapped Elizabeth’s name. “You’ll hear how excited she’s going to be,” she said and hit the Speaker icon.

  Liz answered on the first ring. “Hi, Brooke.”

  Not slowing down for any formalities Brooke asked, “Can you come to dinner on Sunday?”

  Liz chuckled. “Does your daddy know that you’re asking me to dinner?”

  “He knows. He’s the one who said to do it.”

  “Well, then, I think it’s a fine idea, and I would love to come.”

  Brooke turned to Drew, “See, Daddy, I told you she would say yes.” The ideas for all the possible things they might make for dinner began spilling out of her.

  “My goodness,” Liz said, laughing, “that sounds more like a banquet than just an ordinary Sunday dinner.”

  Drew stood and listene
d as the conversation went back and forth with talk of biscuits, chicken, cake and ice cream. There was something about the way Liz spoke that reminded him of Jennifer. She didn’t cajole or talk down to Brooke; she treated her as an equal, someone with thoughts and ideas worth listening to. It was easy to see why Brooke had developed such an affection for her.

  On Saturday morning Brooke woke bursting with ideas for what she now called the dinner party. When she sat at the breakfast table she had a notepad beside her plate.

  “I’m going to make a menu, like in restaurants,” she announced. “And we can use the fancy dishes.”

  That afternoon she and Drew went grocery shopping together, and it was all he could do not to laugh at the seriousness with which she addressed the task. As they went from the butcher counter to the bakery corner, she told every clerk about the dinner party.

  “We need a nice plump chicken,” she told the butcher, and Drew knew this was something she’d heard her mama say.

  The remainder of the afternoon was spent making preparations. While Drew cleaned and straightened the house, Brooke set the table, rearranging things over and over again.

  On Sunday afternoon when the doorbell bonged at precisely three o’clock, Brooke shouted, “I’ll get it!” and ran.

  Drew followed along but stayed behind as she pulled back the door. Liz was standing on the porch with a cake carrier in one hand and a potted plant in the other.

  “A little something for your house,” she said and handed the plant to Brooke.

  As Drew watched he felt his heart quicken. Wearing an ivory colored jacket with a lacy scarf tucked around her neck, Liz looked more beautiful than he remembered.

  She caught sight of him standing in the background but kept her focus on Brooke’s face when she said, “Thank you for inviting me.”

  Brooke tugged her inside then turned to Drew.

  “Daddy, this is Miss Elizabeth,” she said proudly.