Farewell to Cedar Key

by Terri DuLong

  “Hey, Josie.”

  I looked up to see Fiona standing beside my table with Andrea in her stroller.

  “Good morning,” I told her. “And you, you get prettier every day.” I reached over to touch the baby’s hand. “Can you join me for coffee?”

  “Yeah, thanks. I just gave Suellen my order,” Fiona said, sitting down.

  “No classes today?”

  “Not till later this afternoon. So I thought I’d spend some mommy time with Andrea. Sometimes I feel guilty for all the time my classes and study take away from her.”

  I nodded. I recalled the feeling from my days of raising Orli. “Yeah, that’s understandable, but it’ll all be worth it in the long run.”

  “I think so, and guess what? Greg called last evening. He got the position teaching at the university. I’m so excited. He’ll be starting the new semester in January.”

  “Oh, that’s great, Fiona. Marin had mentioned that you were hoping it would happen. So how soon do you think you’ll be moving to Gainesville?”

  “Thanks, Suellen,” she said as her coffee was brought to the table. “Well, this will be Andrea’s first Christmas, and that’s a special one. I don’t want Marin to miss out on that. So Greg and I will stay with Marin and Worth through the holidays. We have it all arranged to move right after the first of the year.”

  “That’s really thoughtful of you. I know Marin will enjoy having all of you with her for Christmas.”

  “Can I join your table?”

  I looked up to see that Grace had arrived with her daughter, Solange, in a stroller.

  “Of course you can,” I said, scooting my chair over to make room. “Good morning. I can’t get over how fast Solange is growing.”

  Grace laughed and bent over to touch Andrea’s hand as she positioned her stroller so the two babies could see each other. “I know. Eighteen months old already. And what’s Andrea? Four months now?”

  “Actually, she just turned five months. Time seems to be flying by.”

  It seemed like yesterday that Orli had been those ages. “Don’t blink,” I said. “Because before you know it they’ll be celebrating their sweet sixteen like my daughter.”

  “I can hardly believe Orli is turning sixteen. So you’re right. We have to savor these moments now, right along with all the sleepless nights. Is she teething yet?”

  “I think she might be starting,” Fiona said. “Lots of drooling going on as you can see.” She reached over to wipe her daughter’s chin with a napkin.

  “How’s your aunt doing?” I asked Grace. “I heard she was under the weather.”

  “Yeah, I’m not sure what’s going on. She has the heart condition of course, so I hope that’s not acting up again. But she told me last night that she won’t be doing the knitting retreats anymore. She said it’s just become too much for her, and with me tied up with Solange and Chloe being a partner at the yarn shop, I think she’s finding it difficult to manage on her own.”

  I nodded. “I can understand that, but it’s a shame. She really enjoyed doing that at her carriage house, and I’m sure her knitters will be disappointed. But everyone does reach a point when they simply have to slow down a little. That’s one of the biggest downfalls that I’ve seen with my patients—the reluctance to give things up that they’re no longer able to do. It’s a difficult decision to make when the time comes.”

  “I know, so I’m hoping that she’s really going to be okay about not doing the retreats anymore.”

  “Good morning. Got room for one more?”

  We looked up to see that Chloe had joined us.

  “Of course,” Grace said, getting up to give her sister a hug. “How’s your arm today?”

  “Itchy,” she said, sitting down. “But I think that means its healing?” She looked at both Fiona and me.

  “It does,” I told her. “So that’s a good thing. When do you see the doctor again?”

  “Next week, and I’m hoping this silly cast can come off sooner than he said. I’ve been a model patient, but I’m having terrible knitting withdrawal.”

  All of us nodded and laughed because we understood her feelings.

  “So,” Chloe said. “When does Doctor McDreamy open that practice of his?”

  “After the first of the year,” I told her. “It couldn’t have worked out better for me. Now Orli and I will be able to fly to Boston for Christmas and her birthday.”

  “That really did work out well. And it seems that you were spotted at the Island Room having dinner with him last week. What’s that all about?”

  I felt a flush creeping up my neck. “Geez, it was only a dinner. A thank-you dinner. For recommending Brandy as his new receptionist.”

  Chloe laughed. “Right.”

  “While we’re on that subject, how’re things going for you and Gabe?”

  “Who?” Grace asked, leaning toward her sister.

  Chloe waved her hand in the air. “Oh, come on. He’s just a nice guy taking Josie’s knitting class. That’s all.”

  “That’s all? Gosh, I thought I’d never get the two of you out of the carriage house after the class so that I could lock up and go home,” I kidded her.

  Grace held up a hand. “Wait a sec. Back up. I seem to be missing a lot of details here. Start at the beginning, Chloe.”

  Chloe laughed and shook her head. “There isn’t much to tell. Gabe Brunell is here for the winter. He signed up with Josie to learn how to knit. I happened to drop by toward the end of the first class and . . . well . . . we just got to talking. That’s it.”

  “Hmm, that’s it, huh?” Grace shot me a wink. “Well, if it turns into anything else you’d just better share it with me.”

  “Ah, female gossip,” I said, then took my last sip of coffee. “Nothing beats it. I have to get going. Will I see you guys at Mr. Al’s memorial today?”

  “I’ll be there,” both Grace and Chloe said.

  “Good, I’ll see you there,” I told them, and got up to leave before they could start hitting me with questions about Ben.

  I had purposely arrived at the memorial only a few minutes before it was due to begin and slipped into the last pew next to Sydney Webster.

  She touched my hand, gave me a smile, and whispered, “How’re you doing?”

  “Fine,” I whispered back, and shot a smile and nod to Noah Hale sitting beside her.

  Mr. Al had a good turnout for his final good-bye. I saw my parents sitting up front, along with many of the women from the yarn shop, fishermen, locals, and merchants. Then I spotted Ben sitting at the end of the first row. I craned my neck to see who was next to him, half expecting to see his pregnant girlfriend even though he’d said she wasn’t coming. But it was a neighbor of Mr. Al’s.

  The pastor began the ceremony with lots of nice words about Mr. Al, followed by music, some heartfelt eulogies, and before I knew it, Ben was heading to the podium.

  “I want to thank everybody for coming today,” he said without a trace of emotion in his voice. “My uncle would have been very happy to see so many friendly faces. Uncle Al loved Cedar Key and all of the people here.” He then paused as if uncertain how to continue. “Although I spent childhood summers here, I’m afraid I just never felt the same attachment, so I’ve decided to put his house up for sale rather than keep it myself.” He cleared his throat and coughed.

  There was a pause before he said, “So . . . thank you again for coming. We’re having coffee and pastry in the church hall, and I hope you’ll join us there.”

  That was it. No I’m going to miss my uncle or My uncle was a great person. No mention of his love of fishing. Nothing.

  I was struck by the lack of emotion and intimacy that he had conveyed. And just before I stood and slipped out of the church, I was convinced that Ben Sudbury was definitely not someone I wanted to be around—and it had nothing to do with the fact that he had dumped me.

  16

  I looked across the table at the four men diligently knitting away. I wa
s surprised at how quickly the month had flown by. During that time they had learned all the basic knitting stitches and techniques and were coming to the end of working on their scarves.

  We had also learned that Gabe Brunell would be on the island until late April. He hadn’t decided yet if he’d be returning to Cedar Key the following winter, because he had one married daughter and a granddaughter living in the Atlanta area. It also seemed that nothing was stirring between him and Chloe.

  “So,” I said, standing up and heading to the counter. “I’ll get the coffee going. Dad, thanks for bringing the monkey bread tonight.”

  I heard my father laugh. “Oh, I’m afraid I can’t take credit for that. I coerced your mother into making it for us.”

  I smiled as I spooned coffee into the filter and heard the guys discussing their fishing trip for the next day. Gabe had fit right into the group and had joined them each week for boating and fishing.

  “Well, tonight marks the end of our four-week beginner class,” I said. “I’m not sure if you guys would like to continue with another class or if you’ve had enough of knitting.”

  “Oh,” Gabe said. “I guess I just assumed we’d go on to the next level for another class.”

  “Right,” Doyle agreed. “Now that I’ve mastered the basics, I’m not about to give up.”

  “Same here,” my dad and Saxton said.

  “Well, that’s great,” I told them. “Okay. Then we have to decide what you’d like to learn to do. And we can set up some more classes.”

  “How about a sweater?” Gabe offered.

  “Yeah, maybe with some cables in it, so we can learn how to do those,” Doyle said.

  “Sure.” I felt a smile cross my face. This class had definitely been a success. “Actually, a sweater is pretty much straight knitting and purling, except for the cables, and on a larger scale than your scarf. If you all agree, that’s fine with me. I’ll teach you how to do the neck and the sleeves and then put it all together.”

  “Great,” my dad said. “Bring on the sweater.”

  “Okay. While you have your coffee, I’ll go into the shop and bring back some patterns for sweaters and you can decide which one you’d like to make.”

  When I returned with five different patterns, the men were enjoying their coffee and snack while chatting away.

  I placed the patterns on the table and went to fill my mug. “Here’s a few to look at. Unfortunately, there just aren’t as many patterns around for men’s designs as there are for women.”

  “Yeah,” Gabe said, picking up one to look at. “I’ve noticed that, and it’s a shame.”

  “Maybe we need somebody like you to start designing some,” my dad kidded him, but I noticed that Gabe didn’t make any comment.

  “So once you decide which one you’d like to make, come into the shop to purchase your yarn and needles and you’ll be all set.” I reached for the calendar in my handbag. “Why don’t we take next week off and start the new class the first Wednesday in November? Will that work for you?”

  Without hesitation four heads nodded.

  “And since we’ll be working on a sweater, it will take longer. How about if the next class goes for seven weeks to begin with and we can extend it if we have to.”

  “Sounds good,” they all agreed.

  “So that’ll take us till the week before Christmas, which will work well for me because I leave that following Monday for Boston. And as I said, if you feel we need more time, we can resume after the holidays.”

  “Great,” Gabe said, and I saw him turn his head toward the door with a huge grin covering his face.

  I looked over to see Chloe walk in. She hadn’t been back since our first class.

  “Hey,” she said. “I just wanted to congratulate you guys for finishing up the knitting class. Did you enjoy it?”

  Gabe laughed as Chloe again took the seat beside him. “We enjoyed it so much, Josie has agreed to do another class for us. We’ll be starting in a couple weeks and making a sweater.”

  “That’s great. Well done, Josie. You’re an ace teacher.”

  I smiled. “Oh, I don’t know about that. I have some prize pupils here.”

  After a few minutes the other three men drifted into generic conversation, but Gabe had his attention focused on Chloe. I picked up the vest that I was finishing for Orli, began knitting, and tried not to eavesdrop on what they were saying, but since I was just across the table, that was pretty much impossible.

  “So how much longer until that cast comes off and you can resume knitting?” he asked.

  “Actually, only one more week. I saw the doctor yesterday and he assures me that he can remove it next week. Believe me, I can’t wait. It’ll be nice to be a free woman again.”

  Gabe laughed. “Yes, I’m sure. The cast is such an inconvenience, but I’m sure you were a great patient and allowed that arm to heal properly.”

  “I was. The doctor said I can go back to knitting, but I’ll be limited at first—only a couple hours each day—but he also said that knitting was great therapy. Many people with arthritis find that it eases their discomfort and keeps their fingers and hands limber.”

  “Very true,” Gabe said. “Knitting can be good for all kinds of reasons.”

  I glanced up and saw the smile he gave Chloe and wondered if that statement had a double meaning to it.

  I looked over and saw Chloe’s face had taken on a crimson hue.

  “Oh . . . by the way, Josie . . . I wanted to tell you,” she stammered, and I realized that she was flustered by the flirty way Gabe was looking at her. “Just because the cast is coming off, you’re not going to be out of a job next week. The doctor said that I can do light work at the yarn shop, but Dora and I agreed that if you can, we’d like you to stay on till the first week in December.”

  “Terrific,” I told her, then smiled because I had an idea that Chloe wasn’t thinking about my position at the yarn shop at all.

  “So which day next week is it coming off?” I heard Gabe ask her as I looked back down at my knitting.

  “Ah . . . Tuesday. I have an appointment with the doctor in Gainesville next Tuesday.”

  “Great. How about if I drive you to the doctor and then take you out for lunch or dinner after, so we can celebrate. You know . . . the removal of the cast and . . . being a free woman again.”

  I kept knitting away, but from the corner of my eye I saw a huge smile cross Chloe’s face and heard her say, “Oh. Oh, well, yeah. That sounds like fun. Thank you.”

  “What time is your appointment?”

  “Eleven.”

  “Okay, why don’t I pick you up about nine-thirty, we’ll go to your appointment, and then we’ll have lunch in Gainesville.”

  “That’s great. I live just up the street, upstairs from the chocolate shop. I can meet you outside at nine-thirty.”

  “Sounds like a plan to me,” he said. I could have been wrong, but I thought I saw an expression of complete happiness cross his face.

  So, I thought, we just might have a little romance brewing here, after all.

  “Well, this was a great evening, Josie,” my father said as he stood up and brought his cup and plate to the sink.

  “It certainly was,” Saxton agreed as he did the same.

  “Yeah, I’m looking forward to the new class starting in two weeks.” Doyle put his cup and plate on the counter. “Thanks for your great instructions, and I’ll drop by the shop to get my yarn and needles for the sweater.”

  I stood up and began filling the sink with water and detergent to wash up the few items. As the three men left, I turned around and saw that Gabe and Chloe were still quietly chatting.

  “Well,” I heard him say, “I need to get home and let my dog out. Thanks for a great evening, Josie,” he said, but I noticed that his eyes were on Chloe. “And if I don’t see you before, I’ll see you next Tuesday,” he told her.

  “Take care,” I hollered as he left the shop.

  Chloe jo
ined me and picked up a dish towel to begin drying mugs.

  “So,” I said. “Looks like you snagged yourself a bona fide date.”

  She laughed. “Oh, I think he felt sorry for me and he was just trying to be nice.”

  “Why would he feel sorry for you?”

  “Well . . . you know . . . because I broke my arm and I haven’t been able to knit.”

  “I seriously doubt that. That man is smitten.”

  Now Chloe let out a belly laugh. “He’s what?”

  I joined her laugher. “Smitten. You know . . . besotted. Infatuated.”

  She whipped my arm with the dish towel. “Don’t be silly.”

  “Yeah, well, you didn’t see the way he looks at you when you’re looking the other way.”

  “Oh, Josie, you’re too funny. Guys in my age group are not smitten.”

  I finished washing the final plate, dried my hands, and put them on my hips. “Really? And you would know this how? And besides, your age group is the fifties and sixties—far from ancient in today’s world.”

  I saw a serious expression cross her face. “Hmm. You mean you think he could be . . . interested in me?”

  I smiled. “Gee, Chloe, yes. I think that could be a distinct possibility.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I thought he was just being nice. Although . . . I do have to say, he’s pretty damn attractive.”

  “I gathered you thought that from the first day you met him in the yarn shop.”

  “No . . . was I that obvious?”

  I laughed. “Hey, I thought it was cute.”

  “Cute? We’re not teenagers.”

  “True, but there’s no expiration date on being attracted to somebody. Having a relationship. Enjoying each other’s company.”

  “I know that. I mean, I did date Cameron after Parker and I got divorced, but . . . we just didn’t seem to . . . click. You know?”

  I nodded. “Oh, yeah, I certainly do.”

  “Ah, Ben?” she asked.

  “Yup. We hated each other at first, then we seemed to work through that and then . . . we seemed to just settle into this . . . static relationship, so yeah, I hear what you’re saying. But I also have to say, from what I’ve witnessed between you and Gabe . . . I don’t detect one ounce of static there.”