A Drunkard's Path

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A Drunkard's Path Page 25

by Clare O'Donohue


  CHAPTER 46

  The day after my final class with Oliver, I arrived early at the shop. A shipment of fabrics arrived, so I spent the morning putting them away. I knew I wouldn’t have time in the afternoon, once the party got started.

  By one o’clock Bernie and Maggie had arrived, homemade treats in hand. Carrie brought coffee from across the street. She’d left the shop in the capable hands of her only employee, Rich.

  “He’s not a thief,” she said. “And if I ever lose my keys, he’s the perfect go-to guy.”

  “And maybe with some spending money he won’t keep betting he can break into things.” Susanne smiled.

  “Here’s hoping,” I laughed. “Unless we need him again.”

  Natalie brought photos she’d taken at Carrie’s opening, made into a photo album for each of us. Susanne brought sparkling grape juice so Natalie could join in a toast. Eleanor had stayed up late the night before, making fried chicken, with plenty left over for the road. I didn’t bring anything, just an old pair of jeans and a sweater so she would have a change of clothes.

  Oliver and Kennette arrived just minutes after we’d set everything up.

  “This is for me?” Tears rolled down Kennette’s face. “Why did you do this?”

  “You have been a joy to befriend,” Eleanor said. “And we will miss you.”

  At that the room broke out in hugs. While Oliver stood back and watched, his granddaughter was pulled into the group with each woman offering her love and her good wishes.

  “You can all visit me in London, anytime,” she said. “It’s going to be really scary going to the London School of the Arts. I won’t know anyone. I wish Nell were going with me.”

  I smiled. “I think I get all the adventure I can stand right here.” “But think of what we’d learn,” Kennette pleaded.

  “I will be Nell’s personal coach,” Oliver stepped in. “There will be no slacking off with me around.”

  I laid my head on his shoulder. “I like that idea, Grandpa.” I winked.

  He blushed. “You think you’re making a joke, but maybe not, if your grandmother will have me.”

  “Oh that’s enough now,” Eleanor interrupted.

  “Then we’ll be kind of like sisters,” Kennette jumped in excitedly.

  I grabbed her hand. “We kind of are,” I pulled at her sweater. “I mean, you’re already borrowing my clothes all the time.”

  Bernie handed out the sparkling grape juice and we all made toasts to wonderful friendships and to quilting. And to Kennette’s bright future at LSA. We ate the chicken and cakes and looked through the photos.

  Several times women came to the door and knocked, but we just pointed out the Closed sign and went back to our party. As much as it pained my grandmother to deny a quilter her fabric, some things are more important.

  After a couple of hours, Susanne wrapped up some of the leftovers and handed them to Oliver. “You have a long trip ahead of you. You’ll get hungry.”

  “And don’t forget this.” Eleanor picked up Kennette’s blue and purple drunkard’s path quilt. “This is very special.”

  Kennette looked at it for a long time, stroking the fabric. “I want you to have this,” she said to Oliver. “It’s a part of me, made into something real. Quilters think it’s really important to give away quilts.”

  He began to tear up as he took the quilt. “It’s more than I deserve, but I’ll treasure it every day.” He held up a wrapped painting. “And I have something for you.”

  Kennette opened the painting. It was the portrait of Kennette that Natalie and I had found in the studio.

  “Grandma,” she said. “She is so beautiful.”

  “It’s not you?” Natalie asked. “She looks just like you.”

  Oliver looked at the painting. “She does. I don’t know why I didn’t see it before. I guess I was so focused on finding Lily that I didn’t see what was right in front of me. A bad quality for an artist.”

  “I’ll treasure it,” she said.

  “Well it’s only one of several you will eventually inherit,” he said. “I worked out a deal with the school to pay for security of my exhibition if they allowed me to withdraw Lost and several other works from my gift. I want those paintings to go to my family.”

  Kennette hugged him again. The two stood holding each other for a long time before Oliver finally stepped back.

  “We have a long drive back to Kitchener. And I have a lot of catching up to do with your mother and grandmother.”

  Kennette went around the room for one more hug.

  “You don’t have a quilt now,” I said.

  “That’s okay.”

  “No it isn’t.” I hurried to the back room and returned with my Irish chain.

  “I can’t take that,” Kennette protested.

  “I’ll make more,” I said. Then I looked around the room at the others. “They’ll force me to.”

  Oliver kissed Eleanor as we all exchanged glances. “I’ll be back in a week. I just want to see if there’s a chance for my daughter and me to find a way back to each other.”

  “I’ll be here,” Eleanor said.

  Once outside I realized that Jesse and Greg were waiting by Oliver’s car. Jesse shook Oliver’s hand and the two men launched into a good-natured argument about soccer. Greg gave Kennette a long hug.

  “Thanks for your help,” he said.

  “But you won’t be taking the detective’s exam in Morristown, so I didn’t really help.”

  “Is that what you were doing?” I asked. “You were helping him study?”

  “We didn’t want the chief here to know about it,” Greg admitted. “It would have meant that I’d have to leave Archers Rest and work for Powell. And that’s a bust now. Not that I’d leave anyway.”

  “I told him that if he stops buying fund-raising bracelets from competing police departments, losing evidence, and planting paintings as favors to a killer, then I would consider letting him study for detective.” Jesse smiled.

  “If he hadn’t,” I pointed out, “I wouldn’t have figured out it was Powell.”

  “I didn’t lose the watch, though,” Greg offered. “Powell must have stolen it from me when I showed it to him.”

  “You’re not helping yourself, Greg,” Eleanor said.

  We watched as Oliver gave Eleanor one last hug and then he and Kennette got into the car. The rest of the group headed across the street to Jitters, but Jesse and I stayed in front of Someday Quilts.

  “Hi, old friend,” I said.

  He nodded.

  “I know I should apologize about all my interference but . . . ,” I started.

  “You don’t need to apologize. You followed your heart. That’s who you are.”

  “And you like that about me.” I smiled.

  He smiled back. “Very much.”

  “So, are we back to where we started when this whole thing began?” I asked flirtatiously.

  “If you mean friends. Yeah, I think so.”

  I pulled back. “So you can’t forgive me for getting involved in the case?”

  “It’s not that. Well, it is a little. It’s just that I’m not ready, I guess. I know I have to be more flexible and more open if I want to be in a relationship again. But I’m a play-by-the-rules guy and you,” he said and laughed, “well, let’s face it, you’re not.”

  “Not just me,” I said, pointing to Susanne, Maggie, Eleanor, Natalie, Bernie, and Carrie, who were all standing outside Jitters.

  “No, you’re right about that. Who knew quilters were such a dangerous bunch?”

  “I did.” I smiled.

  “Friends?” Jesse asked.

  “Friends.”

  I kissed Jesse on the cheek, and as I did, he put his hand on the small of my back. We stayed close, our cheeks touching, for almost a minute.

  It wasn’t over between us, I thought. It would just take its own time. And just like making a quilt, if I got too caught up in getting to the finish line I’d mis
s out on all the fun along the way.

  I pulled away from him and headed across the street to my fellow detectives and the less-dangerous but just as exciting adventure of planning a brand-new quilt.

 

 

 


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