Cupid's Holiday Trilogy

by Geeta Kakade

  “And the nuns gave us this cutlery set,” added Andrew. “Norah gave us a gift card for linen and Dr. Ali and his brother gave us a check for whatever else we might need.”

  Laurel knew Bridget and Andrew were talking about the people close to their hearts and again she felt a tiny tinge of envy. She liked the way both Christy and Mark and Bridget and Andrew had fallen in love and settled down in an area they loved. Maybe one day her future would hold that kind of happiness too.

  With Jacob?

  She’d been reading about combat cameramen and their lives on the Internet website of the First Squadron. The time when she must have done the things they mentioned seemed far away. Laurel didn’t feel any desire to go back to that life. Did losing one’s memory alter ambition or was it just being here at Silver Lake that had shown her a different side of life that appealed to her more now? Or was it knowing Jacob that had created all the new thoughts racing through her mind?

  Andrew had served them with the lasagna as the pan was too hot to pass around and Laurel told herself to pick up her fork and focus on the meal.

  Bridget watched anxiously as they took their first bites of the lasagna.

  “How is it?” she asked Mark.

  Andrew laughed, “Notice how she turns to Mark when she wants the truth?”

  “Christy’s too kind to tell me if something’s wrong and Andrew’s too tactful but I know Mark, Toby and Frank will tell me the truth.” Bridget explained. “How am I expected to get good at cooking on my own if I’m not told when something’s wrong? It all seemed so easy when I was helping Moira or Mrs. Kemp and it’s so different now.”

  “It’s perfect,” pronounced Mark and Bridget relaxed and picked up her fork.

  “I love it,” Jacob sprinkled red pepper flakes over it.

  Laurel wondered if she loved lasagna too. A minute later she said, “This is amazing.” The spinach and meat lasagna had the perfect blend of Italian spices.

  Bridget smiled and said, “It’s one of the easiest dinners to make and with a salad and fresh bread it’s one menu that works for me. The Kemps liked it too. When we had Holt, Moira, Frank and Toby over we had hotdogs as Frank’s crazy about them.”

  “It’s more than I can do,” said Christy. “I haven’t cooked a meal ever. I can do soups and stuff in the crockpot and help Moira and Mrs. Kemp in the kitchen but that’s it. By the way Mrs. Kemp sent a pot roast with us for Andrew.”

  “It’s his favorite dish,” Bridget told Laurel.

  “Pot roast is second to your food now,” Andrew said loyally.

  The look he gave her made her blush and she looked down at her plate.

  Laurel felt another tinge of envy and looked at Jacob. What would it take to make him look at her like that? He was talking with Mark and it was a good thing he was oblivious to her thoughts.

  After a dessert of the most delicious carrot cake she’d ever had, Laurel helped Christy and Bridget clear the dishes. The latter refused to let the men clean up saying all she had to do was load the dishwasher.

  “In that case, we’ll be in the study if you want us.” Andrew said.

  “That’s fine.”

  The three women sat down in the family room after the kitchen was back to normal.

  “Both of you are so efficient, “ Laurel said. “I can’t remember if I was ever good in the kitchen. I remember helping my Mom and my aunt as a teenager but can’t ever remember cooking after I enlisted.”

  “It’ll all come back,” Christy said comfortingly.

  “Give it time,” added Bridget.

  Laurel nodded. “That’s what Jacob says. I don’t know what I would have done without him these past few weeks.”

  There was a small silence and then Laurel said, “There’s something I want to talk to you both about.”

  “What?” they said in unison.

  “I have this idea about Moira’s jams and jellies. We stopped at Cora’s this morning and I talked with her and Norah and asked them if they would sell some in the shop. They were both delighted. I wanted to discuss it with you before I broach the subject to Moira. Mrs. Kemp mentioned you had enough jams and jellies to stock a shop and that’s what started me on this path and then when I saw Cora’s shop today it seemed like the perfect place to sell a few sample jars and see how they sell. Would you mind if I asked Moira if that’s something she’d be interested in?”

  “Not at all,” Christy sounded excited. “It’s a wonderful idea. I worry about Moira not taking a salary and setting her up in her own business would be so great. Even with the guests we have a surplus of jams and jellies and Toby says next year we should have double the fruit we had this year as Mark and I bought all the hybrid overachievers we could find in the fruit department. In fact Toby’s got fruit growing in his greenhouse that are amazing. Moira could make jam year round.”

  Bridget’s smile was huge too. “It would be splendid and I think it would do wonders for Moira’s self esteem. I know I changed since I got my doll business going. If Moira can develop this, she could have an income of her own and be a small business owner.”

  “Lets talk to her tomorrow after the guests leave for the day,” Christy suggested. “Mr. Kemp will do a spreadsheet on what would be feasible prices to charge. I saw jars of different sizes in the grocery store and we could pick those up for Moira. I’ll see what we can get online too.”

  “I’m sure Andrew will volunteer to design the labels,” added Bridget

  “Down the line she could sell them online too through her own website. Everyone’s buying things online these days,” Laurel was glad they liked the idea. “I remember ordering a basket of exotic fruit for Aunt Grace’s birthday online from Florida, when I was in Afghanistan.”

  They all looked at each other and though their gazes acknowledged there had been another glimmer in Laurel memory screen no one pursued the thought.

  “I’m going to St. Mary’s tomorrow if anyone would like to come along?” Bridget offered.

  “I would,” Laurel said. “If you don’t mind taking me with you.”

  It would give Jacob a chance to do whatever he wanted.

  “Let’s discuss Moira’s business the day after then,” Christy suggested. “It’ll give me a chance to pick up some jars of different sizes tomorrow. I have a dentist’s appointment at ten and I can shop after that.”

  The men came in and Christy asked Laurel to share her idea with them. They bounced ideas around and everybody was in agreement. The new business would suit Moira to a T.

  “Good thinking,” Mark approved.

  “Amazing idea,” seconded Andrew.

  “How did you come up with it?” asked Jacob.

  “I’ve been thinking of it since the first day I tasted those jams and jellies. The quality is incredible. My mom had a shop and I guess I think like she did about entrepreneurship. Besides, Moira needs something to convince her she’s on an equal social standing with Holt. She’s said she would never depend on a man again and this, if it works, will give her financial security.”

  Jacob liked Laurel’s thought process and the fact she was taking steps to help Moira.

  That she could put aside her own problems and think of someone else’s happiness at this time said a great deal about the kind of person Laurel was.

  They all parted company in the best of spirits.

  Laurel had her second nightmare that night.

  She was in a cage and couldn’t get out. Right in front of her was Sylvie and she was cowering in fright as a monster approached her. He lifted his hairy arms and Laurel saw his long nails were dripping with blood. Suddenly he turned and saw her and started advancing toward the cage. Laurel looked around for her gun but it wasn’t there.

  She screamed.

  Jacob was beside her in an instant.

  “No”, sobbed Laurel, “No.”

  He picked her up in his arms and sat down with her in the armchair.

  “Shh!" he said. “Shh!” Rocking her gently he held her
close to his heart his lips pressed against her hair.

  When the trembling stopped a while later, Laurel looked at him. “Jacob.”

  The whisper was a note of relief so great it moved him.

  His lips came down on hers urgently as if he couldn’t help himself. When he lifted his head she urged him back to her mouth. When they finally came up for air, she looked at him. “I want to sleep with you Jacob,”

  Laurel became aware she was clinging to him as if he were the only thing between her and losing her mind.

  “Okay.” He stood and carried her to his bed and they lay down together.

  “Turn on your side so I can hold you,” he suggested and she did.

  He curled himself around her and Laurel wondered if that was it. Apparently so because he fell asleep in a bit. Wondering if they spoke different languages and he’d misunderstood her ‘I want to sleep with you' statement, Laurel sighed.

  She had to come up with some other way of getting through to him on that score.

  For now she closed her eyes and told herself she was safe. Jacob wouldn’t let her come to any harm. Snuggling into him she fell asleep too.

  Laurel woke and stared at the wall for a minute before she realized she was in Jacob’s bed. The memory of her nightmare came flooding back and she closed her eyes. She was so tired of the nightmares. She wanted to be well again. She wanted to have a normal life.

  Hot tears pushed against her eyelids and she kept her eyes closed willing them to go away.

  She heard the bathroom door open and close and sensed Jacob coming toward the bed. She kept her eyes closed and after a minute he turned away and left the room.

  Laurel let the tears out then. At least she could afford the luxury of venting her feelings in private.

  She left him a note and slipped out when she heard Bridget’s car pull up. Bridget let Sheba out, picked up the basket of goodies Mrs. Kemp and Moira had packed for the convent, thanked Toby for his container of fresh strawberries and they were on their way. The Cd of classical music made talking unnecessary and Laurel was glad for that. Her dark glasses hid her eyes and she closed them.

  “We’re here,” Bridget’s voice woke her.

  Laurel sat up and apologized.

  “No worries,” Bridget reassured her.

  Laurel helped her carry the things in to the Orphanage kitchen and then they went to find Sister Winifred. She was with the three year olds in a classroom setting, watching them color butterflies.

  “Bridget!” The old nun’s face lit up with pleasure. “How are you?”

  Bridget introduced Laurel and after they had exchanged pleasantries, Laurel sat down beside one of the three year olds and picked up a sheet of paper and a crayon.

  “Want to color?” the three year old asked.

  Laurel nodded.

  Behind her she could hear Bridget and Sister Winifred talk about the man who had visited the convent and asked about her.

  “Said he was making enquiries for a friend,” Sister Winifred said. “Mother Superior told him he could meet with you and Andrew but he said it wasn’t necessary.”

  “Curioser and Curioser,” Bridget said. “He didn’t mention the name of the person he was making the enquiries for?”

  “Said it was confidential.”

  Bridget looked at Sister Winifred who answered the question in her eyes with the statement, “God works in mysterious ways.”

  Laurel turned back to the three year old holding her paper up to her. “Do you like my butterfly?”

  Suddenly she saw children sitting around her with slates and pieces of chalk. She had got that for them. A she was saying. Three lines make A. There was a little girl sitting beside her brother looking at his slate. Farah’s slate had been broken. She was forbidden to learn to write as the boys did so she mentally remembered everything Laurel did and wrote in the sand at her feet.

  “Laurel?”

  Bridget was looking at her and Laurel shook her head to clear it and stood up.

  “Sister Winifred wants to know if we’d like to stay for lunch?”

  “Thank you. That would be nice.”

  “I’ll show Laurel around and introduce her to Mother Superior,” Bridget told Sister Winfred. “We’ll be back by twelve.”

  The nun nodded and they went out.

  Laurel was so taken up with Bridget’s recollections of her life in the Convent till she was twenty one and how the nuns had given Andrew’s friend sanctuary till safe passage had been arranged for him, that she forgot about everything else. As they headed back after lunch Bridget told her about her early days at Cupid Lodge.

  “I realized,” Bridget told her, “that it didn’t matter who my parents were. I had to accept my past would always be a mystery and then I met someone who didn’t care about it. Even before I discovered my connection with the Cupids, Andrew had convinced me he took me at face value and it didn’t matter who my parents were or why they had left me at St. Mary’s.”

  “I’m so glad you met and married him,” Laurel said.

  Was Bridget trying to tell her that it didn’t matter if she never regained her memory?

  By ten the next morning Laurel was in the kitchen. Moira and Bridget were clearing up the breakfast dishes.

  “The last guest has left for the day,” announced Christy coming into the kitchen with her laptop and smiling at her. “The Kemps will be here in a minute for our meeting.”

  Toby came in and said hello and Christy got him a mug of coffee and asked him if he would like a roll.

  He sat down next to Laurel and said, “It’s cold this morning. Mark away on a job?”

  “Yes,” said Christy. “He’ll be gone for a week.”

  “You didn’t want to go with him?” Mrs. Kemp asked. “We will hold the fort any time you need to get away you know.”

  Christy shook her head. “Not right now. The house is full and I’d rather be here than waiting in an empty motel room for Mark to come back each evening. Besides he can work around the clock if I’m not there without worrying about me. That way if he finishes the job he’s on early he’ll be back sooner.”

  “Andrew’s busy with something he won’t talk about,” Bridget said. “He was up till one and then back at the computer at six this morning.”

  “There’s a lot of stuff going on in Washington about international surveillance right now,” Mr. Kemp said.

  “I’ve called this meeting,” Christy said when they were all at the table, “because Laurel wants to share something really important with all of us.”

  Laurel launched her proposal and from the look on everyone’s face she knew they liked the idea. By the time the discussion was over the vote was unanimous. Moira was going into business for herself.

  “I’ll never leave here,” she told Christy, “but as you said I can work on this project in the afternoons now that Sue Tinsley’s coming in regularly.”

  “I’ve done a spreadsheet so let’s settle the prices now,” Mr. Kemp looked at them over his glasses. “They are going to be sold by weight. I’ve looked up produce prices, calculated labor for making and packing plus cost of materials and transport prices. It’s not going to be the most expensive jam but it’s not going to be cheap either.”

  Moira looked worried when he held up a small jar from a rival company and named a price but the others agreed they would pay that price for something as good as Moira’s stuff. Plus tourists wanted to take back local stuff from the places they visited as the sale of Christy’s Dad’s art prints testified.

  “Andrew will help set up a website and make you really nice labels,” volunteered Bridget.

  “I think Moira’s jams or Moira’s jellies is a wonderful name,” Mrs. Kemp couldn’t have looked happier. “Besides I’ve been meaning to tell you dear. I can easily manage the dinner at night too without your help. It’s always easy like soup or chili or crockpot dishes anyway.

  “Holt also says he’ll barbecue any night we want him to.” Christy put in.
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br />   “I’ll come by and help you Mrs. Kemp,” Bridget offered. “I need to learn how to make that pot roast and a few other dishes anyway. I work best in the early mornings and at night on the doll collection so my afternoons are free.”

  “You’ll see how well it does once people taste the product,” Laurel told Moira. “I look forward to breakfast these days wondering what new jam or jelly you’ve put on my tray.”

  “I’ll taste every batch in the line of duty,” said Mr. Kemp nobly, making sure he was far away enough from his wife not to be kicked under the table.

  “I can sterilize all the jars for you and stick the labels on in the back kitchen,” Toby said. “I have nothing to do in these long winter afternoons. Laurel’s been taking pictures of me and Mr. Kemp napping while we watch TV. I like to have things to do besides polishing stuff for Christy.”

  Moira had tears streaming down her cheeks. “I don’t know how to thank all of you especially Laurel for thinking this up.”

  Laurel looked at her. “You’re welcome.”

  Something about the tears on Moira face was triggering a memory struggling to get through the fog that surrounded her mind these days. Another pair of eyes filled with tears saying, “He keeps after me no matter what I tell him.”

  “Laurel?”

  They were all looking at her. She realized they were in Christy’s kitchen. She wasn’t on base in Afghanistan and no one was begging her for help. Laurel stood up abruptly, “Excuse me. I have to find Jacob.”

  They stared after her. A pool of silence sent ever widening ripples through the room. No one felt like commenting on the look on Laure’s face. It was as if she had seen a ghost.

  “I have to clean upstairs,” Moira retreated.

  The Kemps stood up. “We are off to play Bridge in the senior center in town.” Mrs. Kemp went off to get her bag.

  Christy and Bridget were going to town with the list of things they would need for Moira’s business. She’d found the jars yesterday but there was more to get.