The Lover's Knot

by Clare O'Donohue

  I waved to Allison. “It’s a good day for a cookie,” I said to her. And since her mouth was full, she just nodded.

  “She thinks every day is a good day, but we try to save it for a Saturday afternoon treat, right kid?” Allison looked up and laughed at her father, and he laughed back. The delight he took in her lit up his face, and I suddenly was struck by how handsome he was.

  “Well,” I said, feeling a little awkward, “I should be heading back to my grandmother’s.”

  I started to turn before Jesse spoke. “How long are you staying?”

  “Until tomorrow.”

  Allison tugged at his hand, but he kept his eyes on me. “You should come up more often,” he said. “I know Eleanor would love it.”

  “Maybe I should,” I said. And for the first time when I smiled at him, he smiled back. “I’ll let you guys get back to your Saturday.” I looked down at Allison, whose face was now covered with chocolate. “But I’d clean her up before you head back to your wife.”

  When I looked back at Jesse, his smile had faded. I nodded good-bye and turned toward my grandmother’s, leaving the serious man to the not-so-serious task of keeping a little girl from dropping her cookie.

  It seemed like just the sort of crime prevention a cop in Archers Rest would be qualified for.

  CHAPTER 9

  When I got to the house, Marc’s truck was out front and he was putting up the ladder. He was wearing a flannel shirt, and I was, as embarrassing as this is to admit, a little disappointed not to find him bare-chested again.

  “Hey there, granddaughter,” he waved.

  “Nell,” I said.

  “Marc.” He smiled a dangerously cute smile. “Eleanor at the shop?”

  “Yes. I can call over there if you want.”

  “No.” He picked up a heavy load of roofing tiles. “It’s just she usually makes me something to eat when I’m working for her. And she’s a good cook.”

  “Sorry. I’d offer, but you don’t want my cooking.”

  He smiled and looked at me. Not stared, exactly, but looked long enough to be studying me. It was a look of confidence, bordering on arrogance. But there was also something sad that betrayed the cool guy persona he was trying so hard to achieve. A bad boy with a touch of wounded puppy.

  Suddenly I was self-conscious. “I should get inside,” I said.

  The spell was broken. He looked away. It seemed like he blushed, but maybe he was just sweaty from the work he’d been doing. In any case, he nodded and turned away.

  Barney greeted me with the usual excitement, for which he got two of his favorite doggy cookies. I let him out in the yard and he wandered out of sight, likely down to the river. I sat waiting for him to return, but ten minutes went by and then twenty. No Barney.

  A cloud moved over the sun and suddenly it turned the afternoon chilly and gray. I walked in the direction Barney had gone but there was no sight of him, just a few squirrels who scrambled up trees as I came close.

  “Barney,” I called out. Nothing. “Barney,” I said a little more insistently this time. Still nothing.

  I veered off the path I usually took to the edge of my grandmother’s property and started toward the thicket of trees that we romantically called the “black forest.” Although there were only a few dozen trees, they were old and even as they dropped their leaves, they still blocked out most of the darkening sky.

  “Barney,” I practically screamed.

  There were more than five acres of property, but Barney was lazy. He wouldn’t have wandered around. He would have done his business and come back to the house, knowing dinner was waiting for him.

  “Barney,” I finally screamed.

  I heard rustling behind me and spun around. I saw nothing.

  A storm was now brewing in an ever-darkening sky, and I hadn’t brought a flashlight with me. With the tall trees and the encroaching evening, I felt blackness descend around me.

  “Barney,” I called toward the rustling. I could hear a slight panic in my voice. Even though I knew it had to be the squirrels, a small voice inside me said it didn’t sound like squirrels. I was momentarilyfrozen, staring at the spot where I heard the sound. I wasn’t sure whether I was scared that something had happened to the dog or was about to happen to me.

  “Nothing happens in this town,” I told myself. “Good or bad.”

  With common sense taking the lead, I turned back toward the house. I would give Barney an hour to get hungry and come home, and if he hadn’t, I’d come back out with a flashlight.

  I took a dozen steps and heard a sound behind me. It was more than just rustling leaves. It was footsteps. I clenched my fist into a pathetic attempt at a weapon and turned.

  “Who is that?”

  Nothing.

  “Who is that?”

  “Hey,” a male voice came from the other direction.

  “Marc?”

  “Yeah, you okay?”

  I was, I guess. “I thought someone was behind me.”

  Marc came toward me. “I saw. You were about to do battle with a vicious squirrel. Or maybe a bunny.” I turned and saw a squirrel rustling in the leaves before it scampered up a tree. Marc started laughing and I turned every shade of red from light pink to brick.

  He smiled. “I heard you calling for Barney.” He stepped toward me. “I came to tell you he’s in paw-to-paw combat with another squirrel out front. Takes after you, I guess.”

  He took another step, and I instinctively stepped back, more out of extreme embarrassment than anything.

  “Did it scare you that bad?” he asked.

  “No.” I hated being the silly girl. Maybe it was stupid to punish Marc for my self-consciousness, but I couldn’t help myself. We walked for a minute in uncomfortable silence.

  “It’s an amazing old place, isn’t it?” Marc stopped and looked at the house just up ahead.

  “Sometimes I love it almost as much as my grandmother does.”

  “I bet she’d leave it to you, if you asked her,” he said as he turned to me, his eyes sparkling.

  “Eleanor will be in this house for years,” I said, a little offended. “Years and years.”

  “I suppose. I’ve always wanted to go through the place, though. You know, see what’s hidden in the attic.”

  “I don’t think anything’s hidden up there. And you know my grandmother. She wouldn’t want someone poking around her house even if the crown jewels were in it.”

  He smiled and nodded. “I suppose. I guess I just like going where I don’t belong.” He winked at me, as if I knew what he meant.

  I moved ahead and Marc followed. By the time we reached the back door, we were side by side. His arm casually brushed against mine, and something about it made me jump a bit. Barney, looking a little worried, caught sight of us and ran to my side.

  “Why didn’t you come when I called?” I asked him as he jumped at me so excitedly that I nearly fell over.

  “Didn’t Eleanor tell you he’s losing his hearing?”

  “I guess I forgot.”

  Barney jumped up on me once again. Before I could crouch down to let the dog have his way, Marc pulled him off me roughly. Barney winced at the move.

  “Don’t do that. You’ll hurt him,” I yelled.

  “Dogs shouldn’t jump on people,” he said flatly, and released Barney.

  “I have to feed him,” I said. Leaving Marc at the back door, Barney and I went inside.

  Barney had barely begun his meal when the doorbell rang. I opened the front door to no one, but on the porch were a half dozen of my grandmother’s flowers banded together with twine. Resting on the twine was a note: “Sorry I scared you. Mr. Squirrel.”

  In the driveway, Marc had turned on the headlights of his truck. He waved at me. I waved back. “I’m going to clean up here before I leave,” he called, gesturing toward the pile of old roof tiles that littered the front lawn.

  “Thanks,” I said, and held up the flowers. He smiled and I smiled back,
then closed the door. I don’t know why I’d reacted so strongly to Marc. He hadn’t really done anything but remind me that I was easily spooked, and even more easily embarrassed.

  I grabbed the flowers and brought them inside. I couldn’t put them in a vase. If my grandmother saw that someone was picking through her flowers, she wouldn’t be happy about it. But I didn’t want to throw them out either. I took them into my bedroom and put them on the nightstand. I lay on the bed and stared at them for a while, then I turned my attention to the ceiling.

  Tomorrow was Sunday, and that meant going home. If I took the 4:40 train back tomorrow afternoon, I’d be in Manhattan around 6:30 p.m. and at my apartment no later than seven. I would have survived a whole weekend without talking to Ryan.

  But going back meant going to work and either seeing him, or spending the day only a few floors away and not seeing him. Neither option exactly thrilled me.

  I had to come up with some kind of game plan for what I would say if I saw him. I had to figure out my response to any messages he might have left on my voice mail. If he left messages on my voice mail.

  And it also meant finding a place to live. I couldn’t afford the place Ryan and I had planned to move into together, and my apartment had already been re-rented.

  It was too much to think about, so I did the only thing I could think of—I went to sleep.

  CHAPTER 10

  I was standing in my wedding dress, looking down the aisle at the church. It seemed like the aisle went on for miles. I looked around, but none of my bridesmaids were with me, and that was a bit annoying. Why couldn’t they be on time for my wedding? I didn’t know whether I should just go ahead and walk down the aisle by myself or wait for everyone else.

  I took a few steps and stopped. I couldn’t make out who was at the end of the aisle. Was it Ryan? It looked like Ryan, but not completely. The man at the end of the aisle had lighter hair. Maybe. It was hard to tell. Should I walk down the aisle or not? I walked back to my starting point. I didn’t know what to do. Hopefully someone would get here soon and tell me.

  I heard a phone ring. My parents, maybe, or my maid of honor. I looked around, but I couldn’t find a phone, and when I looked up the aisle to the altar, there was no one there. If I could find the phone maybe someone could explain to me why no one was taking my wedding day seriously.

  The phone stopped. I was alone in the church in my wedding dress, and now my flowers were a mess. The beautifully arranged bouquet had become a freshly picked group of flowers tied together with twine. The phone started ringing again. Off in the distance Barney barked. His barking got closer and closer.

  I opened my eyes slowly. It was dark outside, I was on the bed and my grandmother’s phone was ringing incessantly. I got up, feeling heavy and groggy. There was a phone in the kitchen, so I headed in that direction.

  “Hello,” I mumbled.

  “Nell, dear, it’s Nancy. There’s been an accident.”

  I wasn’t sure I was awake yet.

  “Nell,” Nancy said again. The fear in her voice snapped me out of my fog.

  “An accident. What happened? Is it my grandmother?”

  “She was going downstairs to get needles and she slipped on some fabric on the third stair from the bottom. I called the paramedics.”

  “I’ll be there in a second.” I hung up the phone and searched the kitchen for my grandmother’s car keys. They weren’t here. They had to be here. She hadn’t driven to the shop. Okay, I needed to get hold of myself. I could walk to the shop by the time I found the stupid keys.

  “Grandma’s hurt.” I tapped Barney on the head and he jumped up. We both ran out the front door into a rainy night, and into Marc, who was still cleaning up.

  “Hey there,” he said casually.

  “My grandmother fell, at the shop. And I can’t find the stupid car keys.”

  “Hop in.” He jumped into the driver’s seat of his truck as Barney and I climbed in, sharing the passenger side. “What happened?”

  “She slipped on the stairs.”

  “Those are dangerous stairs.”

  “I know,” I said, more worried than ever.

  “How is she?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. In my rush, I hadn’t even asked. I took a deep breath and told myself she was fine. She had to be fine.

  We were at the shop in less than five minutes. An ambulance, its lights blinking, was parked out front. I jumped out and ran, but Barney passed me by and headed straight into the shop, leaving Marc behind to park.

  When I got into the shop, I saw Nancy talking to Maggie, but I couldn’t see my grandmother.

  “Where is she?” I was frantic.

  “She’s downstairs,” said Maggie calmly. “She’s okay. She may have broken her hip, but they aren’t sure.”

  I nodded and took my first deep breath since I’d gotten the call. She’s okay. I rushed to the stairs.

  At the bottom, my grandmother was being lifted onto a stretcher. Barney was hovering around her. He was getting in the way, but I knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

  “This is ridiculous,” Eleanor told the paramedics as they strapped her onto the stretcher. “You’ll never get me up the stairs this way. You’ll kill us all.”

  “Ma’am, we’re very experienced.”

  “You’re twenty-three years old, George. When you were five you ran away from home to this store.”

  “Mrs. Cassidy, I really do know what I’m doing,” the paramedic said confidently. “You’ve broken your leg. We don’t know about your hip.”

  “I can walk.”

  “Well, you’re not going to,” he said, rather strongly.

  Once I got a good look at him, I had to admit he did look young. And neither he nor the guy with him looked particularly strong. My grandmother might have a better chance walking. But I took their side anyway.

  “Let them do what they need to do,” I called down.

  “Nell,” she called, craning her neck to see me. “I’m fine, dear. Tell Nancy to close up the store without me.”

  “I think she has that covered,” I said. I wanted to add, you insane woman. Screw the store. You could be dead at the bottom of these stairs.

  The paramedics slowly moved up the steps, one at a time. Each step they pulled her up and the stretcher seemed to sway slightly. Don’t drop her, I nearly said out loud, but I didn’t.

  “Need help, guys?” Marc was suddenly behind me.

  “Yeah,” said George, straining.

  My grandmother wasn’t a big woman, but the stairs were steep and Barney was nipping at everyone’s heels. Marc walked down and grabbed part of the stretcher.

  “Bad day, Eleanor?” he asked with a smile.

  “I’ve had worse.”

  “That’s the spirit, Mrs. Cassidy,” George said, smiling.

  “Concentrate on getting me up these stairs,” she scolded.

  In a few minutes they were upstairs and headed out of the shop. Nancy, Maggie and I followed as they put her in the ambulance, while she complained about the fuss. Barney tried to climb in after her, but Marc stopped him.

  “Barney, come here,” I called out. He couldn’t hear me, but when the ambulance pulled away, he came walking over anyway, distraught and confused. I leaned down and wrapped my arms around him.

  “She’ll be okay,” I whispered in his deaf ear.

  CHAPTER 11

  Marc drove me to the hospital. Nancy and Maggie brought Barney home and then came to join us. Within twenty minutes the other members of the Friday Night Quilt Club had assembled. Susanne and Natalie brought Bernie. Carrie arrived alone but with a thermos of coffee.

  “Better than hospital stuff,” she said.

  Bernie brought cookies, and Susanne had egg salad sandwiches. It was exactly what my grandmother would have done in their shoes—circle the wagons around whoever was in need, and provide whatever comfort could be provided. I wanted to cry at the kindness of it, but instead I ate a sandwich and three cookies.<
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  For the next hour we all waited, with most of the quilt club talking about how annoyed Eleanor must be and how she would be furious to know that there were so many people waiting in the lobby. Marc, though, was silent. He couldn’t have been that upset about Grandma. He was only her handyman. I thought about telling him he didn’t have to wait, but when I looked toward him, I realized he wasn’t waiting for news. He was slouched in his chair staring angrily at Natalie, Maggie, and Susanne, who sat across from him.

  A nurse, who had ignored every question I’d asked when we first arrived, finally came over to me. “Your grandmother would like to see you.”

  “Don’t tell her we’re here,” advised Bernie. “She’ll have a fit.”

  My grandmother was in a nice private room, but she wasn’t enjoying it. “Tell him I can go home,” she ordered me.

  A tall, thin doctor looked toward me with an exasperated smile. “I’d love nothing more, Mrs. Cassidy. But I’m keeping you here for a couple of days.”

  She had broken her leg near her ankle and done some damage to her kneecap, but her hip was merely bruised, and after six to eight weeks of recuperation she would be just fine. I was relieved. She was furious.

  “I can’t sit around doing nothing for six weeks. I have a business to run. Doesn’t he understand that?”

  “Grandma, the doctor didn’t push you down the stairs, so stop being mad at him.”

  “Thank you.” The doctor smiled, then caught an angry look from my grandmother and fled the room.

  “I can’t believe I was so stupid.” She was straining to get comfortable, and frustrated by the large cast that made that impossible.

  “How did it happen? I cleared the stairs.”

  “You did? I don’t know. I think I may have missed a step.” She was shaking her head in disbelief, as if she were discovering for the first time that she wasn’t infallible.

  “I’ll call Mom and Uncle Henry and let them know . . .”

  “Don’t you dare. I’m fine.”

  “I’ll let them know you’re fine.”

  “Nell. I know you’re trying to do the right thing, but I don’t want everyone getting on a plane to see me hop around in a cast.” Her voice was losing energy and she suddenly looked as if she needed me.