by Geeta Kakade
He directed her to the exit and she saw they were entering the State Park. Armed with a map he told her which roads to take till they were at a spot named, ‘Lookout Point.’
There seemed to be quite a few of those in the area.
Being Monday there were no other cars around.
“I hoped it would stop snowing,” Andrew said as he took out a blanket and put it on his shoulder. “We’ll unload later.”
She went to the edge with him and looked around in awe. “It’s so beautiful here. How did you find this spot?”
“I remembered the one you took me too and thought you might like this one. I found it on a travel site listed under the ten must sees in Silver Lake City.”
“Wonder what the other nine were?” she said.
“They petered out at five.”
They laughed and their eyes met and suddenly there was a great deal of electricity in the air.
Bridget didn’t know if he reached for her first or she just went into his arms. She lifted her face and the kiss lasted a very long time.
He was the first to lift his head, drop his hands and turn away to pick up the blanket he’d set on the bench.
Bridget told herself it was just the next incoming storm that had the atmosphere supercharged.
The kiss meant nothing. He was grateful for her help. She was touched that he had thought to look for this spot.
Andrew balanced on his crutches and put the blanket around her shoulders. About to tell him she wasn’t cold Bridget kept quiet.
“Thank you.”
She turned to him and he said, “Bridget have you given any more thought to becoming a nun?”
“I haven’t made up my mind either way. It’s not as if I have a deadline. I will make a decision as soon as I know it’s right in my heart.”
“So you didn’t mind my kissing you just now? I mean you don’t consider it a sin or something?”
She looked at him and something in the way he looked at her made Bridget lift her face to his, “Kiss me again.”
There was more than one way to prove a point.
His lips came down softly against hers as one arm gathered her close. Bridget closed her eyes and savored the moment.
He lifted his head and she looked at him and blushed. She wanted him not to have stopped.
He held her hand and said, “Will you help me with the picnic basket?”
There wasn’t any of the impatience with himself or the frustration that had been there when he first came to Cupid Lodge in his voice as he made the request. Bridget was glad.
She got the basket spreading the remains of last night’s feast out for them. This year the neighbors and friends had brought a dish each to the party and there had literally been no free surface space on the counters and tables.
“Frank’s really happy with the puppies,” said Andrew.
Bridget looked at him. He was rubbing the back of his neck as he did when was ill at ease. Was he still worried about the kisses and thought he’d trespassed on forbidden ground?
“He is. Did you have a dog as a child?”
“We always had dogs on the farm but they stayed in the barn mostly. I remember a small one called Tinker who I used to play with but he got run over and then I didn’t want another dog to take his place.”
“I’m sorry.”
As they sat down their plates full, Bridget asked, “What was your favorite thing to do as a child?”
She listened to Andrew talk about how puzzles and math games had been an all consuming passion from his earliest days. He told her he would show her the simple code he thought he had cut his milk teeth on. His dad had been an economist and his favorite memory was sitting with him in his study and working on math brainteasers together.
“What was your favorite thing to do Bridget?”
She told him about playing with Emma in their secret hiding place in the garden and growing up appreciating the simple things of life. She’d loved helping in the garden and the bakery at the Orphanage till she got to her teens when she developed a passion for fixing things. Sister Winifred had let her help Eb, the odd job man and hand him his tools as he worked. Later he’d started asking for her help saying he’d never have believed it of a female but she was a good handywoman.
In high school she had taken an automotive class for three years. The only girl in the class she had learned how to change a tire and oil in a car, do wheel alignments and balance tires. The teacher had kept a close eye on her but she had come to no harm. Among other things she had heard a few hair raising stories about stealing cars from the boys and learned a few choice swear words.
When the other girls her age at the Orphanage had elected to go away to college she had opted to stay on at St. Mary’s. Sister Winifred was getting on and working in the office in the daytime and on her online classes at night to get an associate degree in accounting had seemed the perfect next step for Bridget. It was when she was completing her hours in the computer lab at the local college on Saturdays that she had started researching the Cupid name and found Christy’s website.
“We could put a picture of your baby ring on the web asking if anyone knows anything about it.” Andrew asked her.
“Not yet. Mrs. Kemp and I watched a show about someone who went public with their search and had to deal with a lot of false trails. I don’t want to spend my life doing that. I’ve discovered more about myself since June than ever before and I think that it’s more important that people accept me for who I am now not who my parents were or where I come from.”
Andrew knew that Bridget had reached a milestone with her self discovery. She was amazing. Inside that young beautiful head was a brain that was so mature it was incredible.
“Tell me more about your search on the Internet?”
“I discovered a few Cupid names but I didn’t want to write to any of them as they weren’t from this area. A counselor in high school had told me that my mother might have been from this area and known the work the nuns did and she chose to leave me where she knew I would be cared for properly. When Christy’s website came up last year I knew I had to follow that lead so I e-mailed her. She invited me down immediately and Mother Superior said I could have time off in June to visit. Being here I’ve come to terms with the fact I might never know and I will still be fine.”
“Just as I’m coming to terms with the fact my knee might always be a bit of a problem and I will have to give up some things but I will still always get to do the things I now consider important.”
She nodded. Acceptance about things that couldn’t be changed enabled one to get on with life as Sister Winifred always said.
“How is your work with the dolls coming along?” Andrew asked. Mrs. Kemp had mentioned she was working hard on them.
“It’s all done except for painting the furniture and Toby’s going to help with that. Mr. Kemp says he can learn how to help too. I’ve got an idea what the dolls cost too from different online sites and I can price the ones we’re going to sell online after Christy and Mark look at the list I’ve got. The money will help them with maintenance costs on Cupid Lodge.”
“Mark said they were breaking even.”
“Yes,” said Bridget. “But it would be nice for Christy to have a cushion to fall back on, take a holiday abroad. She says she would love to visit Paris with Mark.”
“And what about you Bridget? I heard Christy mention something about the fact you might like to actually own an online doll store?”
“I have thought about it but I haven’t planned that far ahead,” she said starting to pack up.
“If you need money for the doll shop, I would be willing to give you a loan.”
Bridget couldn’t have been more surprised if Andrew had offered to ski down Devil’s Run on his crutches.
“Thanks,” she said, “but I don’t want an actual shop. A virtual shop will be fine for me and easy to manage. Low overheads, no employees and the time to collect and trade dolls, network with other doll experts. It w
ould be a dream come true if I ever make up my mind to go ahead with it.”
She looked wistful for a few seconds but being Bridget she snapped out of wanting what she couldn’t have immediately.
It started snowing on the way back and she talked about the bookings for the following weeks, happy Cupid Lodge would be full.
“I need another week of therapy to be able to drive, “ said Andrew.
“Taking you to your appointments is not a problem,” Bridget said quickly. “I have to go in anyway for groceries and to change my library books and get things for the doll’s clothes. I’ve ordered vintage prints online but the thread and buttons I can pick up in town. A few of the dolls need new outfits, as they have no clothes at all. Besides with what you and Christy are paying me, I’ll have enough for an iPod for Sister Winifred and a new set of tires for the old van we drive at the Convent, by the time I go back. I’ve never done anything for the nuns and this is my chance.”
Andrew was surprised. It sounded as if Bridget had made up her mind already about going back. The kiss and talk of the doll shop hadn’t made the slightest bit of difference to her decision. His efforts to steer her in the direction of his thoughts hadn’t met with any success.
Bridget thought of Andrew so much that night she couldn’t get to sleep. No longer could work drown out thoughts of the tall dark haired man who had shown her the road to her feelings. Every day she seemed to get further on the journey. It must be because she had no prior experience in the field she had fallen so deeply in love with Andrew. She wanted to tell him about her emotions but knew she never would. If he felt nothing but pity for her, it would break her heart.
Bridget couldn’t understand why Andrew was so distant in the days that followed. He spent most of his time in the garage doing his exercises or on his computer. She heard him talking with the dogs training them to obey voice and hand commands. He’d got Frank a DVD on Training Your Lab and Frank zipped through homework to spend more time with the puppies, following up on the training.
Bridget withdrew into her shell around Andrew.
I get the message. You’ve helped the orphan straighten out her thoughts and this is as far as it goes.
What possible interest could a man of the world have in a simple naïve girl?
Andrew knew men who rushed women into bed before they had a chance to think things through. He wasn’t one of them. He wanted Bridget to fall in love with him and then decide the only thing she wanted to do was for them to be together for the rest of their lives. There had to be no conflict of interest in her mind for her final decision to ensure her future happiness.
Then there was his knee…he didn’t want her to marry him because she felt sorry for him. He had to be patient and wait for it to heal completely before he said anything to her.
Bridget kept busy helping Moira and Mrs. Kemp, running errands and making sure both cars had shovels, blankets, first aid kits, food, water, powerful flashlights and bags of salt in their trunks. She had put changes of clothes in too from the stack of old clothes Christy and Mark had given her for the annual rummage sale at St. Mary’s. In a pinch they would come in useful. Sister Winifred had been most insistent that the van had all these things every winter. Bridget knew it could make the difference between life and death if they were stranded anywhere in bad weather and Mrs. Kemp had told her the weather got really bad in these parts.
On Halloween which happened to be Wednesday, Bridget, Moira and Frank went to the Halloween afterschool party at the church.
The next day she took down all the decorations and packed them away feeling a little sad. Halloween marked the beginning of the end of her stay here. She’d had such a good time here since June but by Thanksgiving she would have to make a final decision about her future. Bridget wondered where she would be by this time next year.
Que sera sera seemed a good song for her just now. Whatever will be, will be. The future’s not ours to see.
The snow had painted the landscape white and Andrew sat at his laptop by the bedroom window watching Bridget and Frank build a huge snowman and end up in a snow fight. He couldn’t focus on his work today. Nearby the puppies played tug of war with a twig. It was so good to hear Bridget and Frank laughing. Andrew wanted her to be happy always. He had to come up with a way of giving her the money to start her own doll business. Maybe Christy and Mark could help him with that.
Mrs. Kemp had mentioned how worn Bridget’s boots and some of her skirts were and said her two daughters could take lessons from Bridget Cupid on making do with what they had. Clothes and things didn’t matter to her in the least, Mrs. Kemp had added. It was people she cared about and would do anything for. It wasn’t that she just made do with what she had. It was that she was content with her meager possessions. She could have used anything in Christy’s closet but she hadn’t touched any of the things in there except for the jeans, tops and sweaters Christy had insisted she use.
Andrew had seen the scarf and mittens she’d knitted for Toby…an advance Christmas present he’d heard her tell the gardener. She must have noticed how stiff his hands were getting. Frank had told Andrew about the sweaters she was making for everyone in secret. He’d overheard Bridget telling Toby about the concoction she was making for his cough. She was stewing ginger in hot water and he was to take the strained liquid with a dash of brandy and a little pepper every night. Taken at bedtime, she’d said, it would do wonders for that cough of his.
The old gardener in turn was the only one who teased her about everything and anything, bringing a quick smile to her face. At times these days she seemed as quiet as when Andrew had first met her and he wondered if it was thinking about taking her vows that had her so preoccupied..
She was working too hard, trying to see to all the guests needs, wanting them to have no cause for complaint. As soon as each set left she helped Moira turn out the rooms and get them ready for the next lot. Andrew knew she was working so hard to repay Christy and Mark for their kindness. Moira too had mentioned the sweaters she was knitting were gorgeous with very complicated patterns. Bridget, she said, rarely went to bed before midnight. She didn’t come into the family room and he had no chance to talk with her the way they had in the past. Her actions were sending him a clear message.
Leave me alone.
Mark called him every other night and Andrew gave him reports of the Kemps, Moira and Frank, Toby, his knee and the puppies. The only person he couldn’t talk about with his friend was Bridget.
Andrew missed their late night chats but he avoided her, wanting to give her as much room as possible to make up her mind about her future. As she’d mentioned she was following an internal compass and all he could do was hope it would guide her in the right direction.
Since the day he had kissed her Andrew knew without a doubt he wanted that direction to be him.
“Andrew’s sounding much better,” said Mark to his wife as they snuggled on the couch in front of the fireplace. “You were right about the dogs helping. He just sounds so upbeat when he talks to me these days. For a while I couldn’t get much out of him and then since the party there’s a definite change for the better.”
“Moira says Sheba’s very fond of him. Coco will go play but Sheba likes to curl up at his feet when he’s in the garage.”
“She must have the trait of sensing his needs. That’s what makes labs such wonderful assistant and service dogs.”
“Think he might want to take Sheba with him when he leaves?”
“I don’t know.” Christy stared into the fire. “Maybe we should have gotten three dogs. Has he said anything about Bridget?”
Mark shook his head. “He talks about everyone but her.”
“That’s a good sign,” said Christy. “A very good sign. There’s hope for him yet.”
“When are those two going to have a baby?” Phillip asked his wife.
“Not till Mark understands what happened with his mother when his father dies,” said Agnes. “He doesn’t wan
t children anyway and Christy will have to convince him when she’s ready.”
“When she’s ready? What does that mean?” demanded Phillip.
“You’ve got to realize men and women take time to decide when to start a family these days Pa. Christy’s young. Give her another year or two.”
“New fangled nonsense,” Phillip muttered. He didn’t want to understand it.
Andrew got a text on Wednesday in code just before his appointment at the rehab center that brought a frown to his face. Bridget had given Andrew her phone to use saying it was easier than relaying messages. The message said he had to pick up the microfilm Viktor had smuggled into the country. He hadn’t wanted to share the information on the microfilm till he was safely re-located but he realized now he didn’t need it as a bargaining chip and Sister Winifred had mailed it herself yesterday.
Andrew knew he had to get the microfilm in his hands as soon as possible. It had the locations of all new nuclear sites in the countries that bordered Russia. It was very valuable information and he had to have it in case God forbid, Viktor fell into the wrong hands and admitted its existence.
It ought to be in Andrew’s mailbox at the Post Office in Miner’s Rock, a town fifteen miles east of Silver Lake City.
“It's no problem,” Bridget said when he told he in the car. “We’ll pick it up after your appointment.”
“Weather conditions aren’t good,” Andrew pointed out hating the fact he had to involve her in his work again. It was snowing hard as it had done all night.
“I’ve driven in worse than this,” she said as the windshield wipers of Christy’s car struggled to clear the snow away. “Besides it might stop snowing by twelve.”
It didn’t. It got worse. Andrew insisted they have some lunch at Norah’s café before they left and Bridget agreed that was a good idea. The weather made it easy for both of them to put away Norah’s famous hot roast beef sandwiches followed by a piece of chocolate cake for Bridget and a double shot of espresso for him. They peeped in at the three puppies that were left for a couple of seconds. Bridget filled up the tank at Bud’s garage and then they were on their way.
