by Amanda Tru
“I was better twenty minutes ago. I’ve been making a list for you, but she took it away.”
“Therapy is on a tight schedule,” Cheryl said, “and we’ve already wasted a lot of time.” She held out a hand to Gary. He took it, and she helped him sit up and turn to the side of the bed. He used his free hand to pull the blanket across his lap.
“What about my ankle? I can’t walk on that.”
“Oh, I have a cart for that. It’s just like a scooter. Do you ladies want to come with us?” She beamed at them, and Eleanor got it.
“Are you…”
“Your aunt!” Cheryl said triumphantly.
Gary moaned. “Ex-aunt.”
“Oh, Gary.” Cheryl sank onto the bed next to him. “I’m teasing you. I have a wheelchair in the hall. We’re going down to the therapy room to do some measurements, and then they want to do an MRI on that hip. It’ll take about an hour, all together.”
“We can wait.” Eleanor looked at Violet. “Is that okay?”
“Oh, yes. We can wait.”
“I hope you can work a lot of overtime, Ellie.” Gary rubbed his hand over his face. “I’m glad you’re here. I’m going to need you.”
He needed her. The words felt like a gift. An accolade. Eleanor nodded, hoping her face wasn’t all scrunched up. “I’ll be here.”
She followed Violet into the hall, feeling better than she had in years. She wouldn’t let him down.
“I can’t believe she’s here.” Violet sounded exceptionally happy, too. “I always liked her. She was good for him. Stupid boy.”
“Gary was a stupid boy?”
“They were too young to be married. I’m glad she’s back.” Violet stopped. “You know, I should visit my friend Josie while I’m here. Can you occupy yourself for an hour?”
“Yes, of course. I can meet you in Gary’s room at…” Eleanor consulted her phone. “Ten o’clock.”
“All right. I wonder if Josie knows that Cheryl’s back.”
Of course, his motives were mixed—no use pretending otherwise. Eleanor Nielson, after her determination to save her uncle, didn’t seem like the kind of person to neglect him in the hospital. She might be here. Still, her sudden appearance, framed by the elevator doors and looking much happier than she had last time he’d seen her, rocked him back.
“Hi there!”
She blinked—in confusion?—and then smiled.
David blinked back, stunned. He’d seen her professional headshot, and he’d seen her soaking wet and blood-streaked, and even for those few minutes in the coffee shop, but he’d never seen that smile. He should have worn sunglasses.
“Hello! We meet again—and again, even without the help of that agency. If I didn’t get the free trial, I’d ask for a refund.”
“A refund?” It took him a minute to understand her statement. “True. It’s been more providential than professional. We haven’t corresponded through the agency at all.”
“Right, and we don’t need to do that now, do we?”
“No,” he said. He tipped his head toward the elevator. “I was on my way to see Gary. How’s he doing?”
“He’s a mess, and his therapist is his ex-wife, who seems awfully cheerful to have him at her mercy.” She clapped her hand over her mouth, her beautiful denim eyes widening. “Forget I said that. I guess I’m just so relieved to see him… that wasn’t very discreet. Anyhow, he’s gone for therapy and an MRI and won’t be back for an hour.”
“That must be an interesting situation. So, are you free until then?” David hoped she’d say yes. It would be so much easier than making a formal date, with time to work himself up into a nervous wreck.
She nodded slowly. “Yes, I am. We could get some coffee in the cafeteria.”
“Perfect.” Better than perfect. His lingering reservations vanished as they walked together. “I’m glad to see you again, without my good but clumsy friend. That was an awkward way to meet.”
“It was,” she said, “and the next one wasn’t much better, with me a bloody mess, screaming at you. I can’t imagine how you recognized me.”
“I’d know you anywhere.” Woah… way too fast. “I’d seen you at the coffee shop, too, not just the picture from the agency.”
“I don’t know… I looked pretty scary. The paramedics insisted I come in the ambulance.”
He’d stayed until they left. She’d been too stressed to notice. “I’m glad you’re okay. No concussion?”
“Just a typical scalp wound.” She shivered. “And cold. That was the worst part. I was so cold, and shaking so hard, and all I could think about was how much worse it must be for Uncle Gary. I didn’t know how long he’d been out there. He still doesn’t remember anything after he fell, like how he made it to the bench.”
“Probably just as well. It must have been painful.” He watched her as she ordered and paid for her coffee. Why would a girl like this need to use a matchmaking agency?
“Have you ever done this before? Online dating, I mean.” She sat, sipping her coffee and wrinkled her nose. “This is awful.”
“No, have you?”
“I haven’t. A friend talked me into it. I mean, she showed me the website and encouraged me to fill it out, because she knew I… I was having trouble meeting people here. Brittany’s the only person I know, outside my family. Even at work, I only ever see Uncle Gary.”
David set his cup on the table. “You work for your uncle?”
“Yes. I’ll be putting in a lot of overtime while he’s in the hospital.”
“But you said you were a teacher.”
Eleanor wrapped her hands around her coffee cup and looked into the murky brew. Had she lied? Why?
“I am a teacher. I mean, I’m a certified teacher. I’m just taking a break to work for my uncle while I decide what I want to do with the rest of my life. While I find myself.”
The air quotes and her droll tone might have been meant to hint him away from the topic, but he had to know more.
“You don’t want to teach?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think so. At least, not right now. How about you? Your profile said you’re in seminary. You’re an engineer, but you want to be a minister?”
“Yes, eventually. It’s an online master’s program, with a few retreats and other hands-on activities.”
“Is it for a particular denomination? I… uh… heard a bit of your conversation with your friend the other day.”
“The part about God being married?” He grinned. “I got the impression we’d shocked you.”
“Maybe I needed some context,” Eleanor said. “I assume you were just joking.”
“Not joking, but we were talking about my professor, not God. I think I said I’d sent some questions and not had an answer, and then Larry said it was taking a long time because the professor had just got married.”
“Oh, that makes sense!” She looked relieved. “That will teach me to eavesdrop, right? I was afraid you might be a member of some strange cult.”
“Nope, just a good, old-fashioned, Bible-believing, fundamental Christian. Fundamental with a lower-case f, I mean.”
“Got it. So, is it a Lutheran or Methodist seminary?”
He shook his head. “Just a Bible school without affiliation with any major denomination. Protestant, of course. More reformed than not, but not Calvinist.”
“But not some cult where God is married and too busy to answer prayers.” She smiled, more mischievous than dazzling this time.
“No, it’s pretty basic. How about you? Your profile said you live in Milaca. Do you go to church there, or here in St. Cloud?”
“My family goes to Riverdale in Milaca, and I go with them.” She took another sip of coffee and set the cup on the table. “I haven’t made it to church as often as I should. I’ve only been here a few months, and I was living out at my uncle’s cabin on Tasker Lake until yesterday. I went back to the cities to spend Thanksgiving and Christmas with my parents.”
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sp; “Minneapolis?” He tried to remember… had the profile covered that, or did it just list the current residence? “I thought you said your family was here.”
“I grew up in Minneapolis. My parents and three brothers still live there—and a sister-in-law and a nephew and niece, too, and my dad’s parents and siblings.” She rolled her eyes. “A crowd. My mom grew up in Milaca, and some of her family is still here. Now that Uncle Gary’s in the hospital, I’ve moved into the annex of the old family farmhouse, with my cousin and great-aunt.
“You didn’t like the cabin?”
She picked up a stir stick and whirled it through her nearly-empty cup. “I couldn’t live at the cabin without someone to plow, and… well, it was pretty isolated.
“Did it have indoor toilets and running water?”
Eleanor laughed. “It’s definitely not a primitive cabin. It’s one of those big prow-front places with a massive stone fireplace and enormous logs. It has everything, even internet and cable TV. Jet skis, a nice boat, snowmobiles… he has all the toys.”
“It sounds great.” He needed an uncle like that. His uncles had the cabins without indoor plumbing. “But you got lonely out there?”
She responded pensively. “It wasn’t so much the loneliness as the emptiness. It was so vast, and the whole front of it’s glass. I’m sure it’s better in the summer, when days are longer. I worked all day, and it was dark by the time I got home, so I didn’t get to enjoy the scenery except on the weekends.”
“Did you get outside on the weekends?” Tasker Lake had a good reputation for ice fishing, but Eleanor wouldn’t want to do that alone.
“No, not much. Saturday was nice, with that pretty snowfall. I just curled up with a good book and watched it snow. Later, I did some shoveling while Uncle Gary came by and plowed. Three days later, here I am, living with my great aunt. It’s not in town, though—about ten minutes outside of Milaca.” She grimaced. “It’s going to be a longer commute to work every day.”
That gorgeous day, on the lake, and she stayed inside to look at it through the window? “Do you ski? I went out on Platke Lake Saturday, cross-country.”
“Are the lakes frozen enough for that?” She looked alarmed.
“Platke is, and Tasker would be, but not all of them.”
“I went cross-country skiing a few times, back home,” Eleanor said, “but more downhill. Nothing impressive… just Minnesota mountains.” She grinned. “It’s not like going to Aspen or Vail. Anyhow, I probably would have moved to town soon, even if he hadn’t been hurt. He likes to use the cabin. He and his friends used it for opening weekend—deer season—and I went to visit my parents, but I can’t do that every time he wants to use his own cabin. He stayed out there when I was in the cities for Christmas, snowmobiling and maybe ice fishing. He put out his ice fishing house, so I knew he wanted to go fishing. I felt guilty.”
“I can see how that might get awkward,” David said.
“He kept telling me I didn’t have to leave, but… Aunt Violet wanted me to come live with her, and now I have a bedroom in her house, with not much privacy at all, so I kind of miss the cabin.”
“Are you there long-term?” Was that a sufficiently-tactful way of asking if she planned to stay around? He wanted someone ready to settle down. “In the area, I mean?”
“I’m… well, I want to stay here. I think I’ll like it here, once I get settled in.” She met his eyes. “Part of the reason I signed up at Betwixt Two Hearts is that I haven’t met anyone but Brittany and my family. I love them, but I need some other friends.”
Friends. He appreciated her honesty, but… friends? Maybe she found it awkward to talk about looking for a husband with a stranger. “You like it here?”
“I do. To tell you the truth,” she said, “I didn’t know if I would, but I wanted to leave the cities and do something different. Not teaching.”
“Not teaching? Couldn’t you not teach there?”
“No, I couldn’t not teach there.” She propped her elbows on the table, resting her chin on her clasped hands. “I come from a very academically-inclined family. They all think education is the only worthwhile occupation in the world. When I left my job, my parents—and my brothers—took it personally. They even wanted me to see a counselor. I love my family, but I needed to get out of town if I wanted to not teach.”
“They wanted you to see a counselor?” David asked. “Just because you didn’t want to be a teacher?”
She hunched her shoulders in a shrug. “They figured I must be depressed or have some other issue. They kept suggesting things like changing schools or grade levels or finding another job within the system.”
“But you didn’t want to do that?”
“No.”
David needed time to think. She certainly didn’t sound settled; she sounded like she ran away from home and didn’t know what she wanted to do next. He pulled his phone from his pocket and tapped the screen. “Hey, it’s after ten. I hope your uncle won’t mind if you’re late. At least he can’t fire you, right?”
“I heard you had an accident!”
“Hi, Brittany.” Eleanor tapped the speaker button. “Not me. It was Uncle Gary. He fell, getting out of his truck.”
“I heard you were bleeding and near hypothermia.”
“Aunt Violet?” Eleanor asked.
“Nope, my friend Amy is on the EMT squad. I was a little hurt that I had to get the news from someone else.”
She did sound hurt. Eleanor lifted a stack of books from her stool and sat. “I’m sorry, Brittany. I would have called if I was hurt, but really, I just sort of scraped my head, and it bled all over the place. Or rather, all over my hair and face, so I looked like the victim in a horror film. But it didn’t need stitches or anything. And hypothermia… that one might be true. I was crawling around on the wet ice under Uncle Gary’s truck, trying to find the keys to the office.”
“Brrr. That must have been awful. How’s your uncle?”
“Not bad, all things considered,” Eleanor replied. “He’s moving to a rehab facility tomorrow. But I do want to tell you what else happened on Monday. You won’t believe it.”
“Tell me! Or would you rather meet for lunch and tell me there?”
Eleanor picked up the list Uncle Gary had dictated to her. “I’ve got to stay here to accept some deliveries and answer the phones. Why don’t you come here? I can show you what I do!”
“Okay. Did you bring a lunch, or should I stop for something on the way?”
“Aunt Violet packed me a lunch. I have peanut butter sandwiches and apple slices, like a second-grader.”
When Brittany’s eyes glazed, Eleanor took pity on her and rolled up the blueprints. “I suppose it’s not wildly exciting, but I enjoy it.”
“You do? You’d rather do this than teaching?”
“Yes. I’m really enjoying it. There’s something satisfying about it. Uncle Gary can do anything. He does a lot of energy projects, and plumbing and pipes and metal construction… making things work. Look at this.” Eleanor picked up the photo from her uncle’s desk. “This is a little pavilion out at Meyer Park. It uses solar and wind power together for lights and to operate this little sculpture thing.”
“I’ve seen that. That’s more interesting than plumbing, anyhow.”
“This one was designed by David Reid.” She waited for the name to register. Apparently, it didn’t. “David Reid! My match from the Betwixt Two Hearts agency!”
“Oh! He works with your uncle? Have you met him yet? Again, I mean?”
“I did, right here, on Monday morning, when I was soaking wet and covered with blood!”
Brittany dropped her McDonalds bag on the table. “He was here?”
Eleanor nodded. “He had an appointment with Uncle Gary. He got here before the ambulance did. And he recognized me, even like that!” She lowered her voice. “And when I mentioned that yesterday, he said, ‘I would know you anywhere.’ I couldn’t decide at first, if that was creep
y or romantic, but he’s a nice guy.”
“Wait, wait. What happened yesterday? It’s only been about three days since I talked to you last, and you’ve moved into town, nearly died of hypothermia, met your guy twice, and started running your uncle’s company! You move fast!”
“Me?” Eleanor laughed. “I’m not a fast mover, but it has been an eventful week. And don’t let Uncle Gary hear you say that about his business. He’s all worked up. He gave me a list of things he wants me to bring him at the rehab center. It’s going to look like mobile command center.”
“That should go over well with the staff. You want some french fries?”
“Thanks. We met again at the hospital yesterday and had coffee. He’s a nice guy.”
“Okay,” said Brittany, “you’ve said that twice. Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”
“No, really, he is. He seems like just a nice, ordinary guy.” Eleanor unwrapped her sandwich, folding the waxed paper into quarters before putting it back in the lunchbox. Any discomfort she’d experienced was her own fault. Hedging the truth on an online questionnaire—gaming the algorithm—had seemed so simple before she had to sit down with David and explain things.
“Was he very analytical? Penny says engineers can lack people skills that way—Brian being the exception, of course.”
“Of course.” Eleanor sipped her water. “How can two people, who’ve known each other all their lives, be so besotted?”
“Right? I’m trying to think of a really sappy wedding gift for them. His & Hers embroidered bathrobes or something like that.”
“Oh, that reminds me! You won’t believe this.” Eleanor broke off self-consciously. “Sorry. You don’t want to hear my family drama.”
“Sure, I do!” Brittany pointed a fry at her. “I’m saving up credits. My family is pretty drama-free at the moment, but our time will come. I’m all ears.”
“Laurie called on Monday morning. She’s talking about presents now, like they’re getting married, only bigger.”
“Bigger than wedding gifts? Like what?”
