A Stitch in Time

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A Stitch in Time Page 5

by Amelia C. Adams


  Toby took a step backward, unable to take his eyes off Miriam. She was twice as beautiful as he remembered, but that was something he’d noticed—memories tended to dim the true beauty of certain things or to overexaggerate the beauty of others. His thoughts of her hadn’t done her justice, and now he could hardly breathe.

  He finally pulled his eyes away and looked over at his grandmother. She was watching him carefully, studying him, and he realized she was gauging his reaction like a hawk watches its prey.

  “Where did Mr. Green go?”

  “Mr. Green?” She looked around. “Oh, there he is—under that tree with his wife.”

  “His wife?” Toby shook his head. “Grandma, he’s married?”

  “Yes. Is something wrong?”

  Toby looked over at Mr. Green, then back at Nola. “You’re . . . not engaged to him?”

  She dropped the punch ladle into the bowl, and it made a clattering sound. “Toby Johnson, what on earth are you talking about? Why would I be engaged to a married man?”

  “So . . . who are you engaged to?”

  “I’m not engaged to anyone! Who put that ridiculous idea in your head?”

  “I . . . I thought . . .” Toby tried to remember, his cheeks flushing as he realized how very wrong he’d been. “I jumped to a lot of conclusions, I guess.”

  “I should say so! Now, would you please go over there and say hello to Miriam? She’ll think you’re avoiding her.”

  Perhaps he did want to avoid her, but he wouldn’t say it aloud. He pulled in a deep breath, trying to overcome his surprise that his grandmother wasn’t secretly being courted after all, and prepared himself to face the only young woman he’d ever truly loved.

  Of course they were bound to see each other again someday. As long as he chose to live in Topeka, it was inevitable. Maybe that’s why he’d fallen in love with a spot of ground here, why he couldn’t see himself living anywhere else—maybe he’d been hoping for this moment all along. Or maybe he just really liked that spot of land.

  He edged his way through the crowd of well-wishers and stood a few yards beyond her right elbow, waiting for those who were speaking to her to move on. He knew the moment she became aware of him. Her spine stiffened and she took a breath, and then she turned a little so he couldn’t see her face. It wasn’t a complete rejection, but it was just enough, and he almost turned and walked away. But he wanted answers, and he wasn’t going to give up so easily.

  The people strolled off, leaving Miriam alone, and Toby waited. She finally turned and acknowledged him. “Hello, Toby.”

  “Hello, Miriam. It’s good to see you.”

  She nodded. “I heard you moved away. I was surprised to find out you’re in town.”

  “My family moved, but Topeka’s always been my home.”

  She made a little sound that was almost a grunt, but he’d never offend her by calling it that. “Thank you for coming to the party. If you’ll excuse me, more guests are arriving, and I should go say hello.”

  Hmm. So, they were nearly strangers, were they? Well, Toby could return like for like. “I’m here on assignment for the newspaper. Do you have a moment later to give me a quote about the party and what it’s like to be back?”

  “Assignment?”

  “That’s right.”

  “I’m sure that would be fine. Why don’t we say, in an hour?”

  “All right. I’ll be waiting.”

  She walked off, leaving Toby standing there like a pillar of salt. He’d wanted to reach out and touch her to see if coming in contact with him would remind her of everything they’d once been to each other, but he kept his hands at his sides. Maybe he didn’t want to reawaken those feelings. Maybe they were best left buried.

  There were far too many “maybes”.

  He wandered off to the dessert table and smiled when he saw the cake he’d helped his grandmother make. He’d been so foolish to think she was getting married, but how was he ever to have guessed that the cake was for Miriam’s homecoming party? Why didn’t Nola just say so? He picked up a plate with a slice of Thora’s spice cake and walked back over to the punch table, where Nola was just as busy as before. He waited until she had a pause before he spoke.

  “Grandma, why didn’t you tell me Miriam was coming home?”

  Nola turned to him with a smile. “Because I wanted it to be a surprise! Isn’t it a lovely surprise, Toby?”

  “Yes, it is. I just wonder . . . well, some advance warning would have been nice too.”

  “Advance warning? You make the girl sound like a thunderstorm or something.”

  Perhaps that description was a lot more accurate than Nola knew.

  “So, you’re sure you’re not getting married?” he asked, his tone lighter.

  “I’m quite sure, and if I ever do start to court again, I’ll discuss it with you first. Does that suit your sensibilities?”

  “Yes, I think that will do nicely.” He accepted a glass of punch, then set off to mingle with the guests and get some quotes about their experiences at the party. No matter where he went or how many people he talked to, though, he felt drawn toward Miriam as though he had a rope attaching himself to her. It had always been that way, though—at least, since the day he’d opened his eyes and really noticed her.

  He interviewed Jane Henderson and Bonnie Clark, two of his grandmother’s friends who had helped set up the party, and then he spoke with Kitty Clark, Bonnie’s granddaughter and also Miriam’s good friend.

  “Hello, Kitty,” he said as he approached her. “You’re looking well.”

  “Thank you. You look like you’ve seen a ghost. That’s such a cliché, but it’s so fitting for this moment.”

  “I rather feel like I’ve seen a ghost. I had no idea Miriam was coming back into town.”

  Kitty nodded. “And now that she’s here . . .”

  Toby exhaled loudly. “I’m not sure. She’s agreed to talk with me for my newspaper article, but beyond that? I have no idea. What do you think, Kitty? You know her better than anyone.”

  Kitty shook her head, making her blonde curls bounce. “I don’t know for sure what all happened between the two of you, and I’m not sure I want to know. You might have to navigate this one alone.”

  It was odd to Toby that Miriam hadn’t confided in her best friend. He’d always thought that’s why girls had best friends—so they’d have someone to share those sorts of things with. “Fair enough. So, would you like to be quoted in the newspaper? What do you think of the party?”

  He didn’t actually know if Isaiah planned to use the article, so he shouldn’t promise they’d be in the paper. He shook his head, thinking about Isaiah. The man knew the whole time that Nola wasn’t getting engaged, that this was a homecoming for Miriam, and Toby wanted to wring his neck for withholding the secret. He had to admit, though, that it had been a good joke, and for that reason alone, perhaps Isaiah could keep his neck. Toby would have to consider it.

  He jotted down Kitty’s comments, thanked her, and moved along, stopping next to his friend Peter, who was leaning against one of the trees.

  “So, Miriam’s back,” Peter said with a degree of amusement in his voice. “I saw you speaking with her a minute ago.”

  “I’m not sure that was actually speaking,” Toby replied. “I was speaking, and she was barely acknowledging.”

  “That’s more than you had yesterday,” Peter pointed out. “What’s next?”

  “Next, I interview her for the paper.” Toby held up his sheet of notes. “Isaiah Burns asked me to apply for a job, and if I do well, I’ll become a reporter.”

  “That’s fantastic. Sounds like your hard work is going to pay off.”

  “I sure hope so. College wasn’t easy for me—I’d like to see it render me some good.” A flash of red caught Toby’s eye, and he turned to see a little girl of about six years old go dashing through the crowd on her way to the cake display. “I see that Eliza is still enjoying her red dress.”

&n
bsp; “Yes, she is. In fact, she didn’t want to take it off last night. Mother has been saying that she might need to ask Grandmother to sew a red nightdress.”

  “That would be a sight.” Toby chuckled. “So, would you like to add anything to this article? It’s your chance to be famous, to see your name in print. If they use it, that is. This could just be a practice piece.”

  “No, thank you.” Peter had suddenly become distracted by something over Toby’s shoulder. “Who’s that?”

  Toby turned to see a beautiful auburn-haired lady stepping across the grass, looking around uncertainly. “I don’t know. I’ve never seen her before.”

  “I think I need to introduce myself. Excuse me.” Peter walked off before Toby even replied, and Toby grinned. Peter always did have an eye for pretty ladies. He talked with the newcomer for a minute, then two children came running up and took her hands, pulling her toward the dessert table, leaving Peter standing there alone. That must have been a cruel rejection—and awkward, to have approached a married woman like that.

  “I have a moment now, if you’re free.”

  Toby had been about to go check on his friend, but at the sound of Miriam’s voice, he turned and smiled. “Of course. Shall we sit?” He motioned to the bench nearest the tree.

  Miriam sat, then smoothed her skirt across her knee. “What would you like to know?”

  “What brings you to town, how do you find it here, and how long do you intend to stay?” Toby waited, his pencil hovering over his paper, for her to speak.

  “I’m here to visit my grandmother, I find it much changed, and I’m not sure yet how long I intend to stay.”

  He waited for her to elaborate, and when she didn’t, he decided he’d better go in with some follow-up questions or he’d never get the kind of article he wanted.

  “You were living in New York, correct?”

  “That’s right.”

  “And what were you doing in New York?”

  “I worked as a secretary at a law firm.”

  Her answers were crisp, precise, and utterly boring. He looked up at her, shaking his head. “If you didn’t want to be interviewed, why didn’t you just say so?”

  She blinked. “What do you mean?”

  “You know what I mean, Miriam. You’re sitting there as stiff as a washing board, you’re hardly speaking to me, and I think you’d be more polite to a total stranger. I can finish this article with or without you, so it’s your choice—either give me something I can work with or I’ll move on to someone else.” He prepared to stand up.

  She lifted a hand. “You’re right—I’m being unfair, and I’m sorry. Tell me what you’d like to know, and I’ll try harder.”

  Toby readied his pencil again. “You say you were living in New York. What was your favorite part about the time you spent there?”

  “I would say that leaving was my favorite part, but that doesn’t help your article. I enjoyed the museums, the opera, the ballet, and the wide variety of restaurants and other social outlets, but I missed the quiet intimacy of Topeka.”

  Toby scribbled all that down. “You enjoyed leaving New York?”

  “Very much, but you don’t need to include that. In fact, I wish you wouldn’t.”

  “All right, I won’t.” He crossed out that line, then met her gaze. “What would you say has changed about Topeka since you were here last?”

  “There are more stores, more houses, and things are definitely busier. I went for a walk this morning and only recognized a handful of the people I passed—it’s exciting to see our town expanding.”

  “And what are you hoping to do or see before you leave again?” Toby tried to keep his voice neutral. He hadn’t even known she was coming, and now they were discussing her leaving again. It was far too soon for such talks.

  “Spending time with my grandmother, of course. I’m looking forward to the peace and quiet of home, visiting with friends, taking a few naps—a chance to be still for a while.”

  “I imagine it’s much quieter here than it is in New York.”

  “Very much so. It will be a welcome change.”

  Just then, a little girl came running across the lawn toward them, and Toby recognized her as the child who had interrupted Peter and his new auburn-haired acquaintance earlier. “Miriam Brown! There you are! Mama said this was your party, so you had to be here even though I couldn’t see you, and if I looked around, I’d find you.”

  “Hello, Princess Amaryllis!” Miriam bent over and gave the girl a hug. “Yes, I’m right here, and I’m glad you came to the party. How did you find out about it? I didn’t even know about it until last night.”

  The child scrunched up her nose. “I think your grandma met my mama at the store. Or something. Anyway, it was this morning, and your grandma was so excited, I think she was inviting everyone in the whole world.”

  “She may have been,” Miriam said with a laugh. She turned to Toby. “I met Princess Amaryllis on the train just before we reached Topeka. She and her family are new here.”

  Toby gave the girl a nod. “It’s nice to meet you. What do you think of the party?”

  “Oh, I think it’s the most beautiful party ever, and when I grow up, I want to have one just like it.” She paused and looked at Toby with a scrutinizing eye. “Why are you sitting here under this tree? My mama says that when a boy takes a girl under a tree, he wants to kiss her. Are you going to kiss Miriam Brown?”

  Toby swallowed. “I’m interviewing her for the newspaper.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “But that doesn’t sound like kissing.”

  “That’s because it’s not.”

  “Well, when does the kissing part start?”

  Toby wasn’t sure how to respond. This little girl should be a reporter herself—she certainly knew how to ask questions. “Have you met Eliza Thomas?”

  “Who?”

  “That little girl in the red dress.” He nodded toward the refreshment table.

  “No, I haven’t. Is she nice?’

  “She’s very nice, and I think she’s close to your age. Why don’t you go say hello?”

  “All right, but if you start kissing, you have to tell me!” She called this out over her shoulder as she ran off, causing many people standing nearby to chuckle.

  Toby turned back to Miriam, his face hot. “I’m sorry about that.”

  Miriam was grinning. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so rattled.”

  “That one would certainly keep you on your toes.” He glanced down at his notes, trying to remember what they’d even been talking about. “Is there anything else you’d like me to include?”

  “Yes. Please say how touched I am that the ladies of our community put together this wonderful party for me. It was such a nice way to be welcomed home.”

  “Will do.” Toby stood, then paused. “Miriam, when can I see you again?”

  She looked away. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

  “Why wouldn’t it be?”

  “Because . . . because things are best left in the past, don’t you think? Why would we open up old wounds when they’ve already healed over?”

  “Maybe they haven’t healed over. Maybe they’ve just been bandaged.”

  She stood up and extended her hand. “It was nice to see you, Toby, and I appreciate the interview. I think it’s best if we say our goodbyes now—best of luck in all your future endeavors.”

  He barely had time to squeeze her fingers before she was striding off toward the house, her skirts swishing on the grass. She did have a way of leaving the scene quickly when she felt uncomfortable.

  He watched her go, then left too, feeling as though he had enough information for both articles. Now it was a matter of writing them up and getting them down to the newspaper office on time. That’s where his focus needed to be—he wanted this next step in his career, and he couldn’t let anyone distract him from that goal.

  As he walked away, he noticed two little girls, one in red and one
in blue, twirling around to see whose skirt was poofier, and he smiled.

  Chapter Seven

  “Isaiah, I have a bone to pick with you.”

  Isaiah Burns looked up from his desk. “Yes? And what that might be?”

  “You knew my grandmother wasn’t getting engaged, and you knew Miriam Brown was home for a visit.”

  Isaiah laughed, leaning back in his chair. “Yes, and it was fun watching your confusion. Not much amuses me in this line of work—I have to find my entertainment where I’m able.”

  “I’m glad I could add something to liven up your boring day.” Toby shook his head even as he smiled. If he’d been in Isaiah’s place, he likely would have done the same thing. “I’ve brought you something. Two somethings, actually.” He slid his articles across the desk. “I look forward to hearing what you think.”

  “Wait. You aren’t leaving, are you? Sit down. Make yourself comfortable.” Isaiah picked up the sheets of paper and began to read.

  “You’re going to look those over while I’m still here?” Toby asked.

  “Well, yes. Don’t you want to know what I think?”

  “Of course, but I thought you’d read them after I left. You know—in private.”

  Isaiah raised an eyebrow. “In other words, you’re nervous about seeing my initial reaction, and you want to get out of here.”

  “That might be accurate …”

  “Sit down, Toby.”

  Toby sat.

  “If you’re going to be in the newspaper business, you have to get used to this sort of thing. People will be reading your articles out there on the sidewalk, sitting on either side of you on the train, at the next table if you go to a restaurant. You have to stand behind your work, hold your head up high, and be prepared to defend your facts and your witnesses. You can’t afford to be shy.”

  “Understood.” Toby leaned back in his chair. “I’m hereby ready for any facial expressions you might have or guffaws you might emit while you read.”

  “Good. Because I’ll be honest with you.”

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  Despite Toby’s joking that he could take the criticism, it was still difficult to sit there and wait to hear Isaiah’s opinion. He’d never written up an assignment so quickly—in college, he always had a few days or a week to complete each task, but that was a luxury that simply didn’t exist if he was going to write for the newspaper. If something time sensitive was taking place, he might have a matter of just a few minutes to construct his story before he’d need to put it in the hands of the typesetter.

 

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