Blue Heart Blessed

by Susan Meissner

  He hasn’t come back.

  I am trying not to put myself in countdown mode but it seems to be happening anyway. I’m counting down the days until Daniel marries, the days until my thirtieth birthday, the days until Marshall Mitchell decides to pop in again and the days Ramsey will be on the roof and allowing Father Laurent to stay here at The Finland.

  I don’t like counting the days.

  Forty-two

  Dear Harriet,

  I have to say that the smartest thing I could’ve done this weekend, I did. You should congratulate me. It was the Fourth of July weekend, Daniel was getting married and I had an invitation to go to a lake resort with Shelby and Eric and a bunch of their friends and I went. Bettina was off visiting her family in Florida so Max came, too. He entertained us at night with his magic tricks.

  There were lots of reasons to stay home, including the fact that Ramsey finally got his permits and was hauling I don’t know how many cubic yards of specialized dirt up onto my roof. But I didn’t do it. I packed my little bag and immersed myself into a highly socially-charged atmosphere. A couple of the guys I met up there were single like me and I made it a point to be friendly. But not flirtatious.

  Say what you will about having Max there. It wasn’t to have him sit by me at dinner so I wouldn’t have to converse with men I didn’t know. He had been complaining about having nowhere to spend the holiday, there was room in Shelby’s car and in Eric’s cabin, I invited him along, he came. That’s all there is to it.

  I had a good time.

  I hardly thought about Daniel at all.

  When I got back this afternoon I went up to see Father Laurent, but he and Liam and Ramsey had gone to see the fireworks over Lake Superior the night before and weren’t home yet. I guess they stayed at Ramsey’s townhouse in Duluth.

  Tonight, Mom, L’Raine and I watched Seven Brides for Seven Brothers. We invited Maria Andréa and Rosalina to come watch it, too. It was so much fun. Just us girls. We all wore our pj’s and Mom made fudge.

  I’m glad Daniel got married this weekend. I am. I don’t want him back. Now that he’s married, I don’t have to worry about him someday wanting me back. He won’t. He better not. He’s married.

  I hope it wasn’t too soon to take Father Laurent out on an overnight trip. He’s been doing so well. It would be such a shame to have a setback. Especially with his radiation treatment coming up. I heard them come home tonight. The service elevator makes a bit of a racket.

  I’m sure everything’s fine.

  Of course, everything’s fine! I’m finally free of Daniel, for one thing.

  Tomorrow Ramsey’s supposed to be planting the first quadrant on the roof garden. I can’t wait to see the phlox and those lovely, fragrant white flowers.

  Dear Daisy,

  Congratulations on hardly thinking about Daniel at all.

  Harriet

  Forty-three

  The July heat is shimmering off Uptown’s asphalt and concrete, sending people into Something Blue to cool off more than to shop for wedding dresses. At least that’s what it seems like. No one has bought anything the last couple of days. L’Raine says the heat makes people grumpy and unwilling to part with their money.

  I think it’s simply the month itself. Any girl getting married in July or August has already bought her wedding dress. Autumn brides should be shopping for their gowns but they’re too busy working on their suntans.

  Maria Andréa and Liam were up on the roof earlier, helping Ramsey create my rooftop Garden of Eden, but the heat chased them down. They are now upstairs with Father Laurent, keeping him company and teaching him how to play video basketball on an X-Box. Liam brought his gaming unit from home. Actually, the Horn Blower dropped it off a couple days ago. I didn’t meet her. She just came into the store, told my mother Liam had called and asked for his X-Box game console and set it on the counter. Then she turned and left. I was helping a customer in the dressing room and never even saw her.

  It took quite a bit of self-discipline not to ask my mother if Kristen Ex-Laurent is pretty.

  The sales floor is dead quiet. This is a good time to peek in on Father Laurent. With a wave to Mom and L’Raine, I make my way to the back of the store and the stairs beyond. As I reach the third floor, I can make out the sounds of a cheering crowd, a buzzer and the slap-slap-slap of a bouncing ball hitting hardwood. The door to Father Laurent’s apartment is open, allowing the sounds of a video basketball game to carry into the hallway. I wordlessly poke my head inside the apartment.

  Father Laurent is in his chair, head to one side, dozing. Liam and Andréa are seated cross-legged in front of Father’s TV set, each holding a game controller. Their fingers are punching buttons in rapid-fire fashion.

  “You fouled me!” Andréa declares.

  “Ref didn’t call it.”

  “Stupid program.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with the program.”

  They are quiet for a moment and then Liam says, “You can’t make a shot from there.”

  A second later there is the sound of a cheering crowd.

  “Ha!” Andréa sounds triumphant.

  “There’s no way you could’ve made it from there. No way!”

  “Must be something wrong with the program!” Andréa’s tone is gleefully sarcastic.

  I turn and leave them. Father Laurent is obviously fine.

  The stairs to the roof fall into my line of vision and it occurs to me that I haven’t seen Ramsey in a while. He must be sweltering up there. He also might want a drink of water. I climb the stairs and then open the door to the roof. The heat and humidity meet me like a wall. Still, I’m amazed at how much progress Ramsey has made in the last two days since I was up here. It is like looking at a tiny cross-section of Central Park. The garden is coming together so beautifully and it’s nearly three-quarters done. I head out on the soon-to-be-stone pathway to the far side where Ramsey is stretching out rubberized edging material. His skin has turned golden these last few days. Sweat and smudges of dirt mark his face. He looks up at me.

  “Kind of a hot one, isn’t it?” I say.

  “You could say that again.”

  He pulls a bandana out of his back pocket and wipes his forehead.

  “It’s looking so beautiful, Ramsey. Really.”

  He rewards me with a half-smile. “Thanks.”

  “Um. Can I get you a cold drink?”

  Ramsey reaches down to a cooler by his feet and pops the lid. “Actually, that’d be nice. I guess I drank everything I brought up with me.”

  “Okay. You want water or ice tea or something else?”

  “Water’s fine.”

  “All right. I’ll be right back.”

  I start to head back to the stairs.

  “Daisy?”

  “Yes?”

  “Thanks.”

  “Don’t mention it.”

  I hurry down to my apartment and rummage in my fridge for a bottle of raspberry Fruit 2-O, my favorite flavored water. I see one in the back. Good. That means it will be really cold.

  I wonder if Ramsey’s hungry? I check my watch. Two-fifteen. Maybe I should make him a sandwich.

  No, sandwiches are for lunch. Besides I don’t even know what kind of sandwich he likes.

  Maybe I should bring him an apple or a banana?

  But his hands are covered in dirt. He probably won’t want to eat something with his hands.

  I shut the fridge door. Okay, so I’ll just bring him the water.

  I make my way back out of my apartment and take the stairs to the third floor. I hear voices ahead of me. One I recognize as my mother’s, the other I cannot place. When I get to the top of the stairs I see my mother’s back and that of a blonde woman as they disappear beyond the door that leads to the roof.

  Liam and Andréa must’ve also heard the voices. They are peeking out of Father Laurent’s doorway.

  “Do you know who that is with my mother?” I ask Liam.

  He nods. “That
’s my mom.”

  The Horn Blower.

  Kristen.

  “Oh.”

  Liam seems neither interested nor concerned that she is here. I guess to him it’s no big deal that his mother would want to come talk to his father.

  “Do you know why she’s here?” I wonder if I sound as juvenile as I feel.

  “Nope.”

  “Oh.”

  I just stand there looking at the door at the end of the hall. Liam and Andréa disappear from the open doorway to resume their game. A moment later the door to the roof access opens and I stiffen. Mom emerges, alone.

  She walks toward me with a look of consternation on her face.

  “Did you see who’s here?” she whispers, as if the walls are conspirators.

  “That’s Kristen?”

  “She came into the store demanding to speak to Ramsey. Said it couldn’t wait. Like the whole world revolves around her!”

  “What does she want?” I’m whispering, too. Who knows why.

  “Her way, I’m sure. Whatever that is.” Mom moves past me to the stairs. I’m glad she’s thinking that L’Raine is manning the sales floor solo at the moment. My thoughts are far from the store.

  The sound of my mother’s footsteps fall away and I’m still standing here.

  But then I look at the bottle of water in my hand and a thought tempts me. Tempts me big time. I walk toward the door to the roof access. I carefully open the door, slowly so I don’t make a sound.

  Harriet, mind your own business.

  I ease the door shut silently.

  I step out onto the first step, which is surrounded on all sides by brick. If I stand on the second or third step I will be able to hear what she is saying. If I stand on the fourth or fifth step, one of them might see me.

  I stay on the second step.

  “Please, Ramsey?” the Horn Blower is saying. She is close. Ramsey must have moved to a section of the garden closer to the stairs. Or maybe he came to greet her when my mom brought her up.

  I feel my heart begin to pound a little, partly from fear of being caught and partly from wondering what it is that the Horn Blower is begging from him.

  “We had an agreement, Kristen.”

  Ramsey’s voice sounds controlled, but sad. It’s an odd combination.

  “I know, Ramsey. I wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t really important.”

  “This wasn’t in the plan for this summer.”

  “I told you Vic just found out about it. We didn’t know we were going until just now. It’s just such a wonderful opportunity. Liam’s never been to Mexico. And I know he’d love this. And I really want him to come with Vic and Allegra and me. Please? It’s just for a week. You can have him on Thanksgiving if that will make up for it.”

  There is silence for a moment.

  “I guess it’s really up to Liam.” Ramsey finally says. “If he wants to go, he can go. But if he doesn’t, I’m not going to make him.”

  The Horn Blower sighs. “All right. Thanks, Ramsey. This means a lot to me.”

  “Yeah. Sure.”

  “So. You doing okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You don’t sound fine.”

  “You don’t have to be concerned with what I sound like anymore, Kristen.”

  “I’m just making a point! You don’t have to get so defensive.”

  “I’m fine.”

  More silence.

  “I still care about you, Ramsey. I don’t want you living the rest of your life alone. I want you to move on. Meet people. Go places. Do things. All you do is work! Have you even gone on one date?”

  Ramsey doesn’t answer her.

  I sense something percolating inside me. Something is tugging at the fraternal bonds shared by members of the Lonely Hearts Club. Something wild. I suddenly want to do something that is definitely more provocative than eavesdropping. Something Harriet certainly wouldn’t approve of. But Harriet has fled the premises.

  So be it.

  I reach behind me, open the door and then let it close, letting it make all the sound it wants. Then I climb the stairs and allow my body to emerge fully. Ramsey is bent down in the dirt with a little trowel in his hand. The Horn Blower is standing on the other side of him. She is wearing sunglasses, so I can’t see her eyes, but the rest of her face looks fairly flawless. Clear skin, rosy cheeks, supple lips, diamond earrings. She has on a taupe, flared skirt and a creamy sleeveless V-neck. She’s a perfect size 4.

  “Oh, hello.” I sweetly color my tone with a dash of surprise. I walk over to Ramsey and bend down with the bottle of water in one hand.

  Then I reach out and rest my other hand on his shoulder, just for a second. A tiny caress. Just long enough for the Horn Blower to see it. Just long enough for it give me an unexpected thrill.

  “Here’s your water, Ramsey.” I extend the water bottle to him. It is an effort to keep my voice as steady and sweet as a veteran airline attendant.

  Ramsey looks up at me with the strangest expression on his face. I can’t begin to describe it. But as we look at each other, something passes between us that nearly knocks me off my feet. I quickly stand straight and turn to Kristen. I extend my right hand and she slowly takes it.

  “I’m Daisy Murien. I own the boutique downstairs. You must be Liam’s mom. He’s such a great kid. We all just love him.”

  Kristen slowly shakes my hand. “I’m Kristen Dorris.” She is sufficiently stunned, I’d say. Take that, Horn Blower.

  “Well, nice to meet you.” I keep my voice as cordial as you please.

  I don’t dare look over at Ramsey.

  I can feel him looking at me but I don’t turn my head the slightest in his direction.

  I simply turn my body and head back downstairs like I’ve another important errand to run.

  There is no sound behind me as I open the door to the third floor and disappear through it.

  I head back to Something Blue in a daze, wondering what just happened. Wondering what Ramsey must be thinking. What the Horn Blower is thinking. What I wanted her to think. And how the sensation of Ramsey’s warm skin and muscle beneath my touch surprised the heck out of me.

  I begin to fiddle with dresses and veils, distracted and perplexed. Mom and L’Raine watch me from the back but they don’t say a thing.

  Many minutes later, when I hear the door to the sales floor open and the Horn Blower’s voice, I scramble to get behind the front counter. Liam, Kristen and Ramsey walk toward the front door, presumably to escort Kristen to her car. I pretend to be marking an inventory sheet. I am making a line of M’s; that is all I am doing.

  “So it’s a big cruise ship?” Liam is saying.

  “Really big. With a pool on the top deck and everything,” Kristen is exuberant. “We’ll go snorkeling. And para-sailing. It’s going to be great.”

  They arrive at the front door. “We’ll pick you up at 7 a.m. on Saturday, okay?” Kristen bends down to hug Liam goodbye.

  “Okay.” Liam sounds excited.

  “Thank you, Ramsey,” Kristen says as she breaks away from her son.

  Ramsey just nods.

  The Horn Blower opens the front door, calls out a cheery goodbye and waves.

  “Bye, Mom!” Liam yells. Then he turns to me. “I’m going on a cruise to Mexico!”

  “Wow. How cool is that?” I attempt to match his excitement.

  Liam dashes off to the back door, to tell his grandfather no doubt.

  Ramsey pauses in front of me like he’s going to say something. I look down at my M’s. He’s either very unhappy about what I did up on the roof or just very confused.

  Like I am.

  He opens his mouth, and I’m certain it’s to say, “What just happened up there?”

  Before he can utter a word the front door opens. We both turn, thinking Kristen has returned with a last-minute instruction for Liam.

  But it’s not Kristen walking into Something Blue.

  It’s Marshall Mitchell.
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  Forty-four

  I wouldn’t say this is the first time in my life I’ve been speechless. There have been other times. Like when I got the lead role in the fall musical my senior year in high school. And when my mother called me from the hospital and told me my father had died. And when Daniel told me with dry eyes he didn’t want to marry me.

  I’ve been surprised beyond words before.

  But somehow this is different.

  As Marshall Mitchell walks toward me with a polite smile on his face, it’s like someone has pressed the “mute” button for my mouth.

  “Hello, Daisy.”

  I mutter something like, “Ungh.”

  “I hope I haven’t caught you at a bad time.”

  I force my tongue to wake from its comatose state. “No. Not all,” I mumble.

  Marshall looks at Ramsey who is standing in front of me dirty and sweaty, and wearing holey jeans. Marshall, by the way, is wearing a charcoal gray suit and a sapphire-blue silk tie. “If you, uh, need to finish with your, uh, customer, I can just wait.”

  Before I can answer, my mother comes sailing up to the front, perhaps to rescue me. “Marshall, how are you? How lovely to see you again.”

  She grabs Marshall’s attention and his arm, like he came to see her, not me.

  “I’m fine, thank you very much, Mrs. Murien.” Marshall’s voice is gracious but he seems taken aback by my mother’s hearty welcome. He casts a glance to me that says, “Is she always like this?”

  Ramsey continues to stand there, just looking at me.

  “L’Raine, look who’s here!” Mom announces. “It’s Marshall.”

  I’m not even sure L’Raine knows who Marshall is. My head is swimming.

  “Um, It’s great to see you again,” Marshall says to my mother, and then he turns his head to me. “Would you like to go get a cup of coffee, Daisy? Is this a good time?”

  “Oh. Um. Sure. This is a great time,” I lie. “I’ll just go get my purse.”