Weaving the Strands

by Barbara Hinske

  Glenn held up a hand.

  “Stop. I’m fine. Fit as a fiddle; right as rain. Nothing wrong with me that dancing with my best gal won’t cure. Now come on. I want to be there for the first dance.”

  Moving to the music with the familiar steps helped calm Glenn’s jittery nerves. Other than an odd tendency to put his hand in his pocket, Gloria felt Glenn was doing really well. She was sorry to leave when the last dance was over.

  “Let’s see if the DJ will keep the music going,” she said as they stepped off the floor. “Sometimes he does that, you know. If enough of us want to keep on dancing.”

  “I’d like to get going,” Glenn replied quickly. “I’ve got something else I want to do tonight.”

  Gloria turned to him in surprise. “Oh, all right. I had no idea. You should have said something. We could have left earlier, you know.”

  “I didn’t want to go earlier, but I do now,” he replied cryptically.

  He took her hand and placed it in the crook of his elbow. They left the hall and strolled through the still night air in companionable silence.

  When they reached her door, Gloria quickly unlocked it and stepped over the threshold.

  “I won’t keep you,” she said, turning to him. “I know you have other things to do. Talk to you tomorrow,” she said, leaning over to kiss him.

  “May I come inside?” he asked simply.

  “Of course,” she said, stepping aside and turning on a lamp in the living room. Looking perplexed, she asked, “Can I get you something?”

  “No,” he replied firmly. “Come. Sit down.” He steered her to a chair by the lamp. “I have something to ask you.”

  Gloria settled herself into the chair and looked expectantly at Glenn. She was first confused and then astonished when he, with some effort, knelt down on one knee and took her hand.

  “Gloria, I love you with all my heart. Much is written about the joys of first love, but I believe the greatest joy of life may be last love. The one you’re going to love until you die. For me, Gloria, that one is you.”

  A tear rolled down her cheek, and Glenn gently wiped it away.

  “You’ve brought so much light and energy back into my life, my dear. So much fun. And you’ve inspired me to take on challenges that I wouldn’t have had the courage to tackle if you didn’t believe in me so completely. I’m more with you. I cannot imagine living without you. I hope you feel the same way.”

  He shifted from one knee to the other. “I know we haven’t been a couple for long, but at our ages, we don’t have the luxury of time.”

  He retrieved the box from his pocket and flipped it open. “Gloria—my beloved Gloria—will you do me the honor of marrying me?”

  Gloria, who had been keeping her tears at bay, now let them loose.

  “Oh, Glenn. Why are you doing this? I love you; I truly do. I’m happier than I’ve ever been in my entire life. But I can’t marry you. I’m so much older than you, and at our ages that accounts for a lot. I watched how wonderfully you cared for Nancy in her final days. I don’t want you to have to do that again. That wouldn’t be fair. It’s very likely that I’ll be the first to go. I couldn’t bear being a burden to you. I simply won’t do that to you.”

  Glenn rocked back on his heels in shock. He stiffly got to his feet and snapped the box shut. Gloria leaned forward and took his hand.

  “I’m so very sorry. You are a wonderful, dear man. I wouldn’t hurt you for the world.”

  Glenn nodded slowly. He hadn’t considered that she would refuse him. He cleared his throat.

  “I’d better be going,” he said slowly.

  Gloria began to rise to walk Glenn to the door.

  “No. Don’t get up,” he stated firmly. “I’ll see myself out.”

  ***

  Gloria didn’t sleep that night and neither did Glenn. He scribbled a quick note and stuck it in her door sometime before six o’clock the following morning, saying he knew she would understand that he needed a day or two to sort out his feelings. Understand she did, but the hours dragged with a heaviness she had never known. Had she done the right thing? She knew she had. Her decision had been strong and loving; she was putting him first. She’d been a front row spectator to his agony and despair as he cared for Nancy. Once in a lifetime was enough for anyone. She prayed earnestly that they could get past this and resume their relationship as if nothing had happened.

  Gloria occupied herself with housekeeping and correspondence, but she felt like she was holding her breath under water. She needed to hear from Glenn.

  ***

  When Glenn got over the initial shock and embarrassment of being turned down—on his knees, proffering an emerald-and-diamond ring, no less—his thoughts turned to Nancy and all they had gone through. Was Gloria right? She was older and more likely to need care. Should he spare himself a replay of the wrenching experience of watching a loved one die? As he considered this, he knew with absolute certainty that if Gloria were sick, he would care for her as he had for Nancy. Whether they were married or not. Whether she wanted him to or not. Gloria’s objections were groundless. He knew what he had to do.

  ***

  On the morning of the third day, Gloria found a vase filled with white roses on her doorstep, a note tucked by its side. Her heart skipped a beat as she brought them to the table and sat down to read his message:

  My dearest Gloria,

  Your objections are without foundation. You are my true love, for the rest of our lives. Whatever might befall you, I will be there for you, to care for and comfort you whether we are married or not. You must know that. I’m an old-fashioned man and believe in the sanctity of marriage.

  Consider this from Ecclesiastes 4:9–12:

  Two are better than one,

  because they have a good return for their labor;

  If either of them falls down,

  one can help the other up.

  But pity anyone who falls

  and has no one to help them up.

  Also, if two lie down together,

  they will keep each other warm.

  But how can one keep warm alone?

  Though one may be overpowered,

  two can defend themselves.

  A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.

  I believe with every fiber of my being that we should bind our strands together and finish this journey as husband and wife. If you will, if I am the man for you, you only have to let me know. I’m not going to pressure you or bring this up again. I’ll pick you up for dinner tomorrow night. Pray on this. I’ll abide by your decision.

  Yours faithfully and forever,

  Glenn

  Gloria reached for a tissue to dab at her eyes and re-read the note. What a complete fool she had been. If God had seen fit to send this wonderful man to her, then she was going to accept him and be as kind and good to him as humanly possible for as long as possible. Only He knew what was in store for them. She’d have to trust in that, as she always had.

  Gloria reached for her Bible and found the verse she was looking for.

  ***

  When Glenn stepped out of his door the following morning, he was greeted with a homemade apple pie and a simple one-line note from Gloria that read:

  2 Samuel 12:7

  Thou art the man.

  Glenn flew back into his living room and snatched the ring box from the end table where he had tossed it the other night. He was heading straight to Gloria’s. What was that lyric to the song that was so popular with the kids? “If you want it, better put a ring on it?” Well … he was going to put a ring on it!

  Chapter 33

  Glenn and Gloria were finishing up lunch at Pete’s Bistro in celebration of their engagement. His grandmother’s emerald had delighted Gloria, but the ring was far too big. They had dropped it at the jeweler the day before, Gloria telling them to “put a rush on it, like never before.” The jeweler called first thing in the morning to tell them it was ready and Gloria insisted that
they set out straight away to pick it up. No matter what age, you don’t want to get between a woman and her rock, Glenn realized.

  He was helping Gloria with her coat when Laura appeared in the archway that joined her bakery to her husband’s restaurant. She made a beeline to their table.

  “What’s this good news I’m hearing about the two of you?” she said excitedly.

  Glenn and Gloria exchanged a bemused glance. “Why, whatever do you mean, dear?” Gloria asked sweetly.

  “Your engagement, of course! Valerie from the jewelers just called and said that you’re engaged and have the most amazing vintage ring,” she announced gleefully. “Congratulations, you two. I’m so happy for you. We all are. Now let me see that ring!”

  Gloria held out her hand proudly. “Thank you. Very kind of everyone to be so interested in what two oldsters like us are doing.”

  “Not at all. Are you kidding? You’re the town’s main topic of conversation. This ring is simply gorgeous. Did he surprise you with it? Down on one knee and everything?” Laura glanced over at Glenn. “Sorry. None of my business. I just love weddings. I do beautiful wedding cakes, you know. They’re my favorite things to make.”

  “That’s all right, dear. We’re flattered by your interest. Yes, the ring was a complete surprise and I adore it. And he made a traditional proposal.”

  Laura sighed dreamily. “That’s so romantic. When’s the big day? Will you have a ceremony and reception?”

  Glenn laughed. “We haven’t gotten that far yet. I’ve just managed to get the ring on her finger.”

  “Do let me know. I’d love to bake a cake for you. Again, congratulations,” Laura said as Gloria took Glenn’s arm and pressed him toward the door.

  “Sweet girl,” Gloria remarked when they were outside on the sidewalk. “But how silly. Can you imagine having a wedding at our ages? Who’d want to come, anyway?”

  “I can imagine it perfectly well,” Glenn stated emphatically. “Why not? We may be past throwing the garter and the bouquet, but I think a ceremony to mark the occasion is in order. Something dignified and joyful.”

  “You’ve thought this through, haven’t you?” Gloria remarked, looking up at Glenn.

  “Yes, I have. I’d rather not rush off to the justice of the peace.”

  “Well, no,” Gloria replied slowly. “In our day, people always thought the bride was pregnant. We can’t have that, now can we?”

  They both laughed.

  “Seriously, Gloria, why don’t we get married when your son comes for Thanksgiving? I don’t want a big, fancy wedding, but I want our marriage to be sanctified in a religious ceremony with our family and friends present.”

  Gloria looked into Glenn’s earnest blue eyes and knew he was right. “In that case,” she said, “why don’t we walk over to Town Hall to get our marriage license? We’ve got a lot to do. We’ve got a wedding to plan.”

  ***

  By the time they left the clerk’s office, license in hand, the solid outline of their wedding had been formed. When they ran into Mayor Martin on their way out, the couple exchanged a conspiratorial glance. Glenn was the first to speak.

  “Mayor Martin,” he said, extending his hand. “Glenn Vaughn from Fairview Terraces.”

  “Yes, of course I remember you, Mr. Vaughn,” she said, shaking hands.

  “This is my fiancée, Gloria Harper,” he said proudly, turning to Gloria. “We’re wondering if you’ll be attending the Thanksgiving Prayer Breakfast at Fairview Terraces. It’s going to be especially meaningful, and we’d be honored if you’d be there.”

  Maggie smiled. “I’d be delighted to, wouldn’t miss it for the world,” she answered, all the while thinking that her family would be in town for Thanksgiving and she would need to be at home, in her kitchen, cooking. Did being a politician mean that she was always on call? Was she letting this job take precedence over her personal life again? Maggie stifled a heavy sigh and turned her attention back to this sweet couple. “I’ve got my kids coming to town for Thanksgiving, so I’ll do my best to be there,” she said, feeling slightly better about herself having amended her answer.

  “Bring them along,” Gloria stated. “We’re counting on you to be there.”

  Maggie nodded her agreement and returned to her office as Glenn and Gloria headed toward the exit.

  ***

  Maggie was still thinking about the prayer breakfast as she pulled into the supermarket parking lot on her way home from Town Hall. She would pick up groceries and something from the delicatessen for dinner.

  She was waiting in line at the register when a neatly dressed man in his mid-fifties approached her.

  “Mayor Martin? I’m Tom Barton,” he said, extending his hand. “I teach math at the high school. I need to know what’s happening with my pension. I’ve only got another ten years to work. If the pension fund goes belly up, I have to find a new job. Move away from Westbury and teach somewhere else.”

  “We’re working through this as fast as we can. We have to be deliberate in our approach and not make any snap decisions. The pension fund hasn’t gone belly up, but it’s suffered significant losses.”

  Maggie sighed. At the end of a long day, this was the last conversation she wanted to have. Couldn’t she even buy groceries in peace?

  “How long have you been at the high school?”

  “Since I graduated from college—over thirty years. I’ve got everything tied up in the pension fund.” Tom waved at a slightly younger man dressed in overalls and work boots. “That’s my neighbor. He works at the water department. Been there for twenty-five years. We’ve been talking about this mess and our wives are worried sick.”

  Tom’s neighbor joined them. “Where the hell’s my money?” he asked, his voice projecting to the produce section. “You can’t get away with this! We’re going to throw all you crooks out of office and into jail if we don’t get what’s coming to us.”

  Maggie pulled her shopping cart out of line and turned to the two men. “We’re working very hard to identify the scope of the problem and to implement solutions. It’s going to take time. I appreciate how distressing this is for you. Transparency is important, and we’re doing our best to give you information as soon as it’s available.”

  The man pulled a rumpled paper out of the pocket of his overalls. “This is a petition, signed by people who want you removed from office. I’ve already collected six pages of signatures. We don’t want information; we want our money back in the pension fund. And you don’t have much time,” he said, shaking the paper in her face.

  A crowd had gathered around them, trapping Maggie. She clutched the handles of the shopping cart and searched for words that would diffuse the situation. “I understand your concerns,” she stammered, as the store manager broke into the circle.

  “What’s the problem here?” he asked. His eyes locked on Maggie. “Let’s give the mayor some space, will you? She was just leaving,” he said as he took her elbow and steered her toward the exit.

  Maggie made her way quickly to her car. To hell with her groceries, she thought. And to hell with this store; she’d take her business elsewhere. She’d just been thrown out of a supermarket. What was her life coming to?

  Chapter 34

  Maggie swept her eyes from her computer screen to her office door. “Come in,” she called, as Chief Thomas entered her office.

  “Hello, Chief,” she said, rising from her seat.

  “Please, don’t get up. I’m here to deliver the result of the coroner’s report on William Wheeler’s death.”

  Maggie waited expectantly.

  “Natural causes. As I said at the time, he was alone in his cell when he died and there was no evidence of foul play. The toxicology reports found no opiates or cocaine. He was a lifelong smoker and drinker. Couple that with all the stress he was under and it evidently proved too much for him.”

  Maggie shook her head. “I don’t know, Chief. He seemed pretty hardy to me. Have you told Alex y
et?”

  “Yes. I just came from his office; I actually walked into the building with him. He figured I was here to deliver the results.”

  Maggie pursed her lips. “Is he satisfied with this explanation? Are there further tests that can be run?”

  Chief Thomas shifted uncomfortably. “There are other tests, but they cost a lot of money. We’ve followed protocol to the letter, here,” he stated defensively. “Alex is satisfied and so am I. Wheeler had a heart attack.”

  Maggie rose from her chair. “Is Alex in his office? I’d like to discuss this with both of you.” She preceded him out the door, not waiting to see if he would follow her.

  “Alex,” Maggie said, rapping lightly on his door.

  She motioned Chief Thomas into the room and closed the door. Alex raised a brow at them both.

  “Maggie isn’t happy about the cause of death being natural causes,” Chief Thomas stated.

  “It’s not that I’m unhappy about it,” Maggie snapped. “That’s the result we all wanted. It just strikes me as extremely unlikely. What’s the harm in doing some additional investigation?”

  Alex rose from his chair and came around his desk to face them. “The harm is that it isn’t necessary. We’ve done everything by the book and we’ve received the most likely answer. Wasting taxpayer money digging for something else makes us look like conspiracy theorists searching for the sinister answer we want rather than the simple truth that we’ve found.”

  Maggie sighed and leaned back against his desk.

  “Wheeler’s death is a terrible impediment to your investigation. Maybe it’s time to call in the feds; let them use their expanded resources to investigate this whole thing—including running additional tests on Wheeler’s body.”

  Both men rounded on her in unison.

  “If you think I’m not competent to run this investigation, just say so,” Chief Thomas spat. “Maggie, you’re out of line,” Alex stated coldly. “I’ve worked with Chief Thomas for almost twenty years. He’s the best in the business. We’re working night and day to develop this case carefully and thoroughly, so we can convict anyone involved. And we don’t need a newcomer second-guessing us.”