by Geeta Kakade
Halfway to Miner’s Rock, an accident on the highway slowed them down for an hour. Glad she’d moved the blankets to the back seat after lunch and called Moira, Bridget put one over her knees and gave the other to Andrew. This was going to take longer than she’d anticipated and she would never work as a weather woman. It hadn’t stopped snowing and it was not going to anytime soon. She kept talking hoping to alleviate Andrew’s noticeable tension. Waiting in the cold for the stalled traffic to get going was a challenge. Andrew’s mouth was set in a tight line and she knew he hated involving her again in his business.
It was a relief when they finally got going again.
They stopped at the Post Office in Miner’s Rock so she could pick up Andrew’s mail from the box he rented. She hadn’t known he had one there but then there was a lot she didn’t know about him. He insisted she put his woolen cap on and tuck her hair into so it was hidden. By the time she came out visibility was so poor she couldn’t see her hand in front of her face.
The drive back was going to be a challenge.
“She can’t drive back in this blizzard,” Phillip sounded worried. “Why a man could lose his way between house and barn if he didn’t have a rope to hold on to in these conditions.”
“She’s not going to drive back Pa. I’ve made other arrangements,” Agnes sounded pleased with herself.
“What arrangements?” Phillip wanted to know.
“Wait and see,” she said floating up to the rafters. “Wait and see.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
“We can’t go back,” Andrew said as soon as Bridget got in the car.
“Why not?” Bridget demanded.
“It says on the local station that there’s been another accident. A big rig overturned and there’s a multiple car pileup because of it. The highway’s shut down.”
“I can take the side roads.”
“No,” said Andrew. “I can’t allow you to do that. There’s a good chance those roads haven’t been ploughed since early morning and I’m not risking us getting stranded in a lonely area. We have to do the sensible thing and stay here in town.”
Bridget knew he was right. Every winter rescue crews spent more time and resources looking for people who should have had the sense to stay home. Besides she could tell from the color of Andrew’s face that his knee was hurting. She couldn’t take the chance of being stuck outdoors somewhere and risking worse injury to him.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get the SUV’s tire changed yesterday and we had to take the car today,” she said.
Frank had pointed out the nail in the tire in the afternoon and she had meant to change it and take the other tire in for repairs. She just hadn’t gotten around to it.
“It’s not your fault. I booked us into the motel here while you were in the Post Office.”
Bridget was surprised. He’d made the decision already?
“I had to make sure we got rooms for tonight.” His tone indicated he was not happy about the turn of events.
“We’ll be fine. We have extra clothes in the trunk and a toilet bag.” She tried to sound as calm as possible.
They pulled up at the only motel in town a block away and Bridget was surprised to see it was one of the bigger ones with stores on the bottom floor.
She was even more surprised when the check in clerk said they only had one room available.
“Everything’s booked for the skiing season and when the weather changed so suddenly a lot of folk in the area decided to stay here.”
Andrew looked at Bridget, taken aback. “I asked for two rooms,” he snapped.
“Sorry sir, there’s just the one left. If you don’t want it…”
Bridget picked up the room key and said, “We’ll manage.”
She told herself she couldn’t do anything else. Andrew was looking paler than normal and she knew from experience that he was always worn out on rehab days as he pushed himself so hard.
They were on the third floor and the room did have two beds and a television set.
‘Be grateful for small mercies,’ Sister Winifred always said.
“We’ll be fine here,” Bridget said. “Don’t worry.”
She took the nightdress she’d found in the emergency bag in the trunk of the car and went into the bathroom. Thank goodness she had got both vehicles winter ready. For Andrew she’d pulled out a pair of old pajamas that looked like they belonged to Mark so he would be fine.
Bridget showered to warm up and put on the nightie. Picking up her sweater she slipped it on to conceal the low neck of Christy’s nightie. Taking her clothes back into the bedroom she put them on one of the two chairs there.
Andrew had the television on and he got up without a word and went into the bathroom when she came out. His set mouth and silence told her how unhappy he was at the turn of events.
Calling Moira again from the phone in the room, she told her they’d got held up by the snowstorm, were spending the night in Miner’s Rock, would be back the next morning and were fine. Frank came on the line and asked her if he shouldn’t take the puppies to bed with him. Wouldn’t they be very cold in the snowstorm? They might freeze to death. He’d been telling his Mom that and she wouldn’t listen to him. Bridget said the puppies would be fine in the family room of the apartment as they had each other to keep them warm and his Mom was a hundred percent right. He couldn’t take them to bed with him. She hung up on a very disappointed Frank.
Plumping the pillows up Bridget opened a bag of chips and got into bed.
“There’s nothing wrong with the situation,” she told her beating heart as she ate sitting up aware she was getting crumbs in her bed that would torture her all night. “It’s what any sensible person would do given the same circumstances.”
Then very firmly she shut out thoughts of Sister Winifred. ‘Words fail me’, she had said once when Bridget had taken a warm loaf out of the bakery and had a picnic with Emma in their secret place. Bridget had a good idea that words would fail Sister Winifred now too.
Andrew couldn’t stop cursing himself. He shouldn’t have asked Bridget to drive him to Miner’s Rock. The text on his phone to pick up the microfilm had made him forget to check out the weather reports for the area. He never skipped details like that.
How was he going to explain getting stuck here with Bridget to Mark and Christy? He’d better leave Cupid Lodge before they returned. He might even have to ask for a foreign assignment for a while. Mark wasn’t a man who lost his temper easily but when he did all hell broke loose.
Wasn’t it a cardinal sin for Bridget to spend a night with a man, if she was going to be a nun?
Was this going to ruin her chances of doing what she wanted to?
She had the television on when he went back into the bedroom and on the nightstand between their beds he found an assortment of snacks and the thermos of hot chocolate Moira always sent with them these days.
He looked at Bridget. She had taken out the glasses she wore to read and put them on. Her knitting was out of its bag. “A sweater for Toby,” she explained. It was a light grey blue, the color of Toby’s eyes.
She was watching an old John Wayne movie. The local weather channel interrupted to say the storm was getting worse and urging people to check their emergency supplies and stay home unless it was absolutely necessary to go out.
“You made the right decision. Thanks,” said Bridget.
He looked at her and some of his tension ebbed. She looked as if the situation was no big deal. Were all her little gadgets meant to send him a signal? The glasses, the old sweater, her knitting, the old movie.
We’re spending the night in the same room out of necessity but there’s nothing more to it than that.
It didn’t help him. Andrew knew from Christy’s frequent calls and the length of them when she talked with Bridget that she was very fond of her. Mark’s wife wouldn’t take kindly to the way he was using Bridget either to do his work for him.
Bridget hoped he was buying the ‘
grandmother knitting for Christmas watching a movie’ act and stop looking so grim.
“I’m sorry about all this,” Andrew said.
“Why?” asked Bridget. “We’re just friends sharing a room. You wouldn’t worry if it was Mark here would you?”
“No I wouldn’t,” Andrew admitted. “But when I factor in you, the convent, Christy and Mark, the Kemps…” his voice trailed away as he thought of Toby, Moira and Frank too. “What do I say to all of them?”
“I’m an adult,” Bridget reminded him. “It’s more important I know nothing’s happening tonight that shouldn’t than what other people think about the situation. Besides I don’t plan on saying anything to anybody about sharing a room. Do you?”
The way she was looking at him over the top of her glasses made Andrew want to pick her up and kiss her. “No,” he said worry sliding off his shoulders.
Trust Bridget to reduce everything to the simplest and least complicated.
“This place has room service if you’re hungry,” he said after a minute.
“I can’t eat another thing today,” she said. “Besides I’ve got the croissants I had picked up for tomorrow’s breakfast if I want something later. You go ahead and order what you want.”
“I’m not hungry either,” Andrew said still wondering if Mark would knock him out first and ask questions later or just pick him up and throw him out of his home and his life. Bridget might evade the truth but he couldn’t lie to Mark. He closed his eyes. For someone who had never gone back on his word before he was neck deep in you know what now.
Strangely enough he fell asleep almost immediately. Bridget fell asleep watching tv and woke to the sound of Andrew crying out. The bathroom light she’d left on showed him sitting on the side of his bed staring blankly ahead. In the time it took to get to his side, he cried out again.
She put her arms around his head and held it to her chest.
“Shhh!” she said stroking his hair. “It’s all right. It’s all right.”
His cheeks were wet with tears, his forehead beaded with sweat. “It’s my fault Bill and the others died. It’s my fault.”
“It’s no one’s fault,” Bridget said stroking his back. “You couldn’t do a thing to prevent what happened. Go back to sleep. You’re having a nightmare.”
He put both hands up to hold her wrists.
“Stay with me.’
“Yes,” said Bridget.
She slipped out of bed an hour later when he was fast asleep again. Moving his hair off his forehead she bent and kissed it. “You’re safe now,” she said.
Andrew came awake with a start the next morning, looked at the next bed. Bridget sat in the chair fully dressed knitting.
He squinted at his watch. Seven a.m.
A glance at the window showed it had stopped snowing.
“Good morning,” she said smiling in the sweet way she had.
“Morning,” he replied, wincing as he swung his knee over the side of the bed and put his brace on. He almost had the foot to floor exercise perfected in preparation for being able to drive and walk without crutches. Doing a few range of movement exercises as he sat on the side of the bed to ease the stiffness, Andrew reached for his crutches before getting up carefully and going into the bathroom. He’d slept well after the nightmare he’d had in which he’d dreamed of Bridget being next to him, holding him.
“I’m in the car,” the note on his pillow said when he came out.
She had the car warmed up and had cleaned the windshield and the windows. A young couple were chatting with her about the ski slopes in the area.
He put the rest of the stuff in the rear and got into the car and she came around the driver’s side. “Snow plough’s been through,” she said, “and the news says the highway’s clear. We should be back in no time.”
Andrew knew she was always this cheerful in the mornings. He needed help to get his good mood going. As if she read his thoughts, she pulled up at the drive through coffee shop next to the motel and he ordered a double espresso for himself and a hot chocolate for her.
“Doesn’t it look wonderful this morning?”
It did. There was nothing like bright sunshine and snow laden trees to make a beautiful winter scene.
“I want to tell you how sorry I am about last night,” he said again. “If it’s going to cause any trouble for you at the Convent…”
“I don’t know what you mean,” Bridget said. “I’m an adult in charge of my own decisions and it’s not as if we had a night of revelry or anything. I only answer to myself and as long as my conscience tells me I’ve done nothing wrong, I’m fine.”
The laughter in her voice had him relaxing. As long as she wasn’t burdened with guilt or whatever it was nuns were burdened with when things went very wrong.
Bridget bit her lip to hold back the sudden urge to giggle uncontrollably. It must be the lack of sleep that had her so lightheaded but suddenly the thought of explaining last night to Sister Winifred had flashed into her mind.
“The temptations of the flesh have to be overcome,” she had told the girls one summer and Bridget decided it was that remark that had made the other three girls in her batch rush away as soon as they turned eighteen. They didn’t want to overcome anything.
Around Andrew she didn’t feel like overcoming temptation either. Her mind had wandered into forbidden territory imagining the outcome if she had stayed in his bed and they had woken up and made love. X rated thoughts where Andrew was concerned were becoming more and more frequent.
Get thee behind me temptation, is a losing battle where your mind’s concerned isn’t it? Maybe you should wash it out with soap!
Her face burned and she stole a look at him. He looked so handsome with his jacket collar turned up, the stubble on his cheeks. She wanted to feel the rasp of it against her fingers.
She wondered if he had totally wiped out the memory of last night’s nightmare from his mind and decided it wasn’t worth mentioning.
“What’s in the microfilm?”
“Key information I cannot discuss.”
His clipped tone told her not to ask any more questions. The drive back was quick and quiet except for the Mozart symphony flooding the car with its soft strains. Bridget wondered what Andrew’s reaction would have been had she demanded he make love to her. The next second she told herself sternly to stop thinking nonsense.
Contrary to all she’d said and done to avoid any complication of their situation last night Bridget wondered why Andrew hadn’t tried anything. He’d barely looked at her.
Her girlfriends in high school and college had told her men couldn’t wait to have sex if they wanted you. Apparently she wasn’t on Andrew’s Most Wanted list.
A tiny part of her felt regret over that thought. The nest minute she told herself her brain needed washing out.
Mary Mary Quite Contrary how does your garden grow?
While right now Bridget’s was filled with the weeds of desire overtaking the calm quiet flowers of self restraint at an unimaginable pace.
Moira and the Kemps greeted them with relief, hugging Bridget.
“It’s all my fault,” she said. “I needed this wool and it’s only available in the big craft store in Miner’s Rock. I thought we would be fine but the snow and the accident were both against us returning.”
“Sensible thing to do to stay on,” said Mr. Kemp, looking worried. “A senior was found with a bad case of hypothermia in his car this morning. He went into a ditch and had no cell phone with him. Glad Andrew was with you and you weren’t alone.”
They were ushered in and plied with warm cranberry muffins, coaxed to have omelets and toast as if they’d been gone for a month instead of a day. Moira reassured Bridget about the croissants being fine once they were lightly warmed in the oven.
Toby was at the kitchen table and said he’d spent the night here as well as his eyes weren’t what they used to be and driving was no good in bad weather. He looked worried too. Bridget
bent to kiss him not missing the sharp ‘are you all right?’ look he shot her. She smiled at him. “Andrew booked us into the hotel the minute he heard of the accident, so all we had to do was wait out the storm.”
He said something under his breath that Bridget didn’t hear.
The guests were already coming down for breakfast glad the ski slopes would be perfect this morning and anxious to get underway. Moira filled thermoses and Bridget packed the ordered lunches while Mrs. Kemp made omelets. Andrew, Bridget noted after some time, had disappeared.
He seemed to avoid her more than ever in the days that followed. Bridget kept to herself too. She wasn’t going to throw herself at the man, not that she knew how to anyway.
She knew Andrew was trying to arrange for someone to pick up Viktor but the latter refused to leave with anyone except Andrew. One night when she was cleaning an empty kitchen and setting things out for breakfast, Andrew came into it. He stopped when he saw her.
“Hi”, she said casually as she continued scrubbing the sink. “Need something?”
“I’ll get it.” He walked over to the cabinet and took out a glass.
“Need a ride anywhere?”
“No!” The word had a distinct snap to it.
She kept quiet and he went on, “I don’t want you to concern yourself with the matter anymore. Understood?”
Yes sir! Bridget thought wondering if she should salute as she said the words. All she did was nod, “Perfectly.”
She heard him say "Goodnight," and go to the door. As she rinsed the sponge, wiped her hands and switched off the lights, Bridget wondered why her eyes were filled with tears and her heart ached.
“He’s going to kill himself with those exercises,” Mrs. Kemp had said to her and Moira that afternoon. “He’s doing them every three hours as if his life depends on them.”
Was Andrew really in that much of a hurry to get out of here, Bridget wondered.
With the work on the dolls completed, Bridget started reading the diaries in the afternoons, finding the stories of the women who lived at Cupid Lodge and the memories of their life before they came here fascinating.
