by Terri DuLong
With the cake plates empty, I took a sip of tea and said, “So there you have it. That’s what I learned this morning.”
“So you also don’t know if Fiona grew up knowing about Andrew or if she ever met him?”
I shook my head. “No, I have no idea. The attorney seemed to feel that there hadn’t been any contact between Andrew and Bianca over the years, but he wasn’t certain.”
“And the money that Andrew has paid over eighteen years. Fiona wasn’t aware of that until after her mother died?”
I shrugged and nodded. “Right. I believe the bank informed her, gave her the attorney’s information, and that was the first she learned about the money.”
“Apparently her mother shared very little with her about her father. I guess it stands to reason that Fiona is now looking to you for some answers. You do plan to call her, don’t you?”
“I’m not sure.”
My mother got up to place her cake plate in the sink. “I see,” was all she said.
11
As I drove down Second Street, the bay window caught my eye immediately. I pulled the golf cart in front of the shop and gazed at the new addition. It looked wonderful, and I was excited as I unlocked the door and stepped inside. I could hear Worth working in the other room.
“Hey,” he said, turning around as I walked in. “What do you think?” His arm gestured toward the window.
“I think it looks great. I love it. It already makes the room look larger.” I walked closer to get a better look. The window jutted out from the building with a large pane of glass in the center and side sections that each held six smaller panes.
“I’m glad you like it, and I think it was a good choice to go with this type of window. It will increase the flow of natural light into the room.”
“I love the oak wood and the wide sill attached to it.” I trailed my hand across the smooth finish. “This will be perfect for displaying finished pieces of needlepoint.”
“I still have to get it stained, but other than that, this project is about finished.”
“Terrific,” I said, feeling my spirits lift. “What’s next on the agenda?”
“We’ll be working on the ceiling and walls today, getting them sanded down, and I’m hoping the ceiling light will be delivered by the middle of next week. There was a back order on the fluorescent ones with the oak frame.”
“Hmm. I hope you’re right and that won’t cause a delay. And the ceiling fans? You’ll be installing one at each end of the room, right?”
“Yes, I picked those up yesterday in Gainesville.”
“Great,” I said, heading back to the yarn shop. “We’re right on schedule. I’m going to brew some coffee. Would you like some?”
“Sure. Kyle should be here shortly, but I think I have time for a quick break.”
I brought Worth’s coffee to him when it was ready.
“Thanks,” he said, shooting me a smile. “We’re still on for dinner tomorrow evening, right?”
I nodded before taking a sip. “We are, and thanks for understanding about last night.”
“Not a problem. I’m glad you asked for a rain check. How’re you doing?”
“Okay,” I said, but before I could say any more, Kyle walked into the room. “Well, I’m going to let you guys get to work. If you need anything, just give a holler.”
My mother had the day off, but Chloe would be in at noon. I turned on the computer and was going to check e-mail for any recent orders, but instead I found myself doing a Google search for Fiona Caldwell in Marblehead, Massachusetts.
I clicked to bring up a Boston University website on the screen where her name was listed. She was a student at BU? According to the article, she was. I read that Fiona Caldwell had participated with a group of freshman nursing students passing out toys the previous Christmas at Boston Children’s Hospital. She was studying to become a nurse? Had she inherited an aptitude for science from Andrew? And had Bianca Caldwell also had a career in science or nursing? The link below this one told me that Fiona also had a Facebook page, but when I clicked I discovered it was private and a friend request had to be sent, which of course, I wasn’t about to do. Not even a photograph was available to the public, which left me feeling oddly disappointed. I realized that the main reason I had even done the search was in the hope that I might be able to see what she looked like. Silly me. Those were the only two mentions listing Fiona Caldwell, so unless I made the decision to call her, the limited information I had would be all I knew about Andrew’s daughter.
Closing the screen, I went to the e-mail account to check for new yarn orders.
Shortly after Chloe arrived, Raylene came into the shop accompanied by Mr. Carl.
“So,” she said, her tone indicating she was here for a chat and not yarn. “Now we know why you’re adding on the needlepoint shop.”
I looked at Chloe, who shrugged her shoulders and raised her eyebrows.
“You do?” I asked.
“Yup, we do,” Mr. Carl confirmed. “You’ve known about this film company coming to town and you wanted to spruce up the shop and make it look better.”
I shook my head and pursed my lips. “Hmm. You found us out, didn’t you?” I couldn’t resist. There was no sense in trying to set them straight, so I might as well play along.
I heard Chloe cough and turned around to see she was actually stifling a giggle.
“See,” Raylene said, jabbing her husband in the arm. “See, I told you some people know for sure what’s going on. I knew you were right about this.”
“Well, I’ll be!” A huge smile covered his face, making me feel a tad guilty. “So when will the rest of us be told? Do you know what the movie’s about? When is the film crew coming?”
“Geez, I’m really not sure, Mr. Carl. Maybe you should go back over to the Welcome Center and see if you can get some information there.”
“Good idea,” Raylene said, pulling her husband’s arm as they headed out the door.
Chloe broke down laughing. “Oh, you are so bad. But that was priceless the way they both lapped it up.”
“Hey, there was no sense trying to tell them that the needlepoint shop has nothing to do with a movie that any of us know a thing about.”
Laughter broke out later that evening as we sat knitting at the yarn shop.
My mother was wiping at her eyes and still laughing. “You naughty girl, Marin. Shame on you leading Raylene and Mr. Carl on like that.”
Corabeth had gotten her laughter under control. “I’d say they both deserve it. They thrive on rumors, the both of them. I think that was rather clever of Marin.”
All the other knitters agreed.
“Well, sometimes no matter what you say to people, they still only believe what they want to, so I figured I’d let them do just that.”
“Yeah, and it might keep them from nosing around in other business for a while,” Flora said.
We all looked up as Berkley walked in. “Hey, is it really true about the film company coming here?” she asked, and that brought forth another round of laughter. “What?”
I quickly explained what I had done, and Berkley shook her head, grinning. “Aw, geez. I was all set to spruce up on my acting skills.”
“Well, don’t toss that idea aside,” I told her. “Apparently Mr. Carl did overhear something at the Welcome Center. We just don’t know yet what’s going on.”
Berkley pulled up a chair and began working on a pair of multicolor cotton socks. “So I guess we’ll just have to wait and hope it might be true.”
“Did Saxton’s daughter and her husband arrive today?” Corabeth asked.
Berkley nodded. “Yes, Resa and Jake are here, and they’re meeting with Ali tomorrow to look at the bed-and-breakfast. Saxton and I have our fingers crossed that they’ll purchase it.”
“Oh, Polly,” Monica said, looking up from the blue knitted hat she was making for her son. “I need to call you tomorrow and make an appointment for Clarissa. She wan
ts her hair cut.”
“Sure. Probably a little trim? I have a couple openings on Saturday.”
Monica shook her head. “Ah, no . . . not a little trim. She wants all of it cut.”
Sydney shifted to face her daughter. “What?” she gasped. “That gorgeous long hair of hers? Why?”
Sydney was right. Clarissa had just turned thirteen. Her beautiful hair fell to the middle of her back, thick and wavy and envied by her classmates.
“Well, Adam and I wanted her to be her own person, rather than a follower copying everybody else, but I guess we didn’t have to worry. You remember her friend Zoe, who moved away when her mother died?”
“Right,” Flora said. “Sandy Collins’s daughter. Zoe went to live with her dad and stepmom, didn’t she?”
Monica nodded. “Yes, and one of the girls in Zoe’s class was recently diagnosed with cancer. She’s going to be going through chemo and of course will probably lose her hair. So Zoe and a few of her friends decided to get their hair pretty much shaved off, and they donated the hair to that program Locks of Love.”
“I’ve heard of that,” Dora said. “The organization then makes wigs for the children who have lost their hair from chemo.”
“That’s right. Zoe e-mailed a photo of herself to Clarissa last week and told her all about it, so now Clarissa has decided she’d also like to do this.”
“Wow,” Berkley said. “What an admirable thing to do.”
“I agree,” I told Monica. “That’s really quite brave of her.”
“I know. Adam and I have discussed it with Clarissa; we told her while it’s a very nice thing to do, once her hair is gone, it will take a while for it to grow back. But she’s determined to do it.”
“I’m really proud of her,” Polly said. “And I’d be very happy to participate. Isn’t there a minimum on the length?”
“Yes. It has to be ten inches or longer, and the hair must be sent as a ponytail or braid. Clarissa pulled up all the guidelines on their website, so she’ll bring them with her when you cut it.”
“Very good, and tell her there’ll be no charge for the cut. Just call me tomorrow and we’ll figure out the time for Saturday.”
Shortly before nine my mother prepared the coffee for the group.
“It was my turn to bring the snack,” Chloe said. “And I brought fudge from the Cedar Key Fudge Company.” She opened a box to display the various flavors.
“Oh, my.” Flora sighed and leaned forward for a better look. “So much for that diet of mine tonight.”
I laughed as I stood up and stretched. “Look at all the great flavors.”
“I’m not familiar with this shop. Where’s it located?” Berkley asked.
“The fudge is made at Ada Blue’s restaurant out on 24,” Chloe told her. “My favorite is the key lime.”
Conversation continued while we enjoyed the fudge and coffee, but my mind wandered back to Clarissa and the bold step she was taking with her hair. I admired the fact that a thirteen-year-old girl could be that brave and make a decision that might wind up causing her ridicule from her friends for being different. But she didn’t seem to care; nor did she seem concerned about the outcome.
Unlike me. I wasn’t even brave enough to make a telephone call to gather more information about Fiona Caldwell.
12
I had left the yarn shop at three after being prodded by my mother and Chloe to go home, relax, and then get ready for Worth to pick me up at seven.
I had poured myself a glass of sweet tea and decided a luxurious bubble bath might be fun when the phone rang.
“Bella,” I said after hearing my friend’s voice. “How are you?”
Her laugh came across the line. “Better now that I made my deadline. My manuscript is finished and I feel like I can breathe again. But how are you doing?”
I realized that we hadn’t spoken for a few months. She had been busy working on her next novel and I had been busy trying to adjust to being a widow.
I let out a deep sigh. “God, where do I begin? A lot has happened since we last spoke. But I’m doing okay . . . or as well as can be expected, I guess.”
“I know. I’m sure it’s hard being without Andrew, but it sounds like more is going on than just losing him.”
You have no idea, I thought and proceeded to bring Bella up to date.
“Wow,” she said when I finished. “I almost don’t know what to say. And you haven’t made any contact with the daughter yet? Do your boys know? How did they take the news that they have a half sister?”
“No, I’ve made no contact. I just can’t bring myself to make that call. And, no, I’m ashamed to say that I haven’t said a word to John or Jason about this yet.”
“Hmm, well, there’s no hurry on telling them. They’ll find out from you eventually, but you might want to consider calling this girl to gain more information. Especially since it’s up to you to sign those documents if that’s what you decide to do.”
I let out another sigh. “I know.”
“So all of this happened the summer he went to teach in Amherst, huh? I came back to Gainesville to spend a week with you while he was gone, remember?”
I did remember. I also remembered the long, comforting conversations we had in the evening over wine after the boys had gone to bed. I remembered being grateful that I had a close girlfriend I could confide in, one who never judged me. And even though I had opened up to her about my less-than-perfect marriage, she had never once said I told you so. Like I knew she wouldn’t now.
“Yup,” I told her. “That was the summer it happened. You and I both know that Andrew and I were having problems, but I sure as hell didn’t think he was off screwing another woman.” Just like that I felt my anger flaring again. “Much less getting her pregnant. I mean, God! They weren’t even responsible enough to use protection.”
“You know I’m on your side, Marin, but that’s not necessarily true. Contraception can fail, but at any rate, a child was the outcome. And now . . . Andrew is gone, the mother is gone . . . and it looks like, my friend, you are the one that’s left to deal with this. And deal with it you will.”
“Don’t be too sure of that,” I retorted.
Bella’s soft laughter came across the phone, and I could almost see a smile crossing her face. “Oh, but I am sure of it, Marin. You seem to forget. I knew you when. I knew you before you even met Andrew. When you took chances, when you knew where you were going, and when your strength was one of your best qualities.”
I shook my head. “That woman is gone.”
“No, she’s not. You just have to find her again. And you will. I’m sure of it.”
“Tell me your news,” I said, tired of my own drama. “What’s going on in your life?”
“Well, as I said, my manuscript is finished. So I have a few months to catch up on other things. Oh, and after the first of the year I’ll be traveling to Tuscany, the setting for my next novel, so I’ll be over there for a few weeks doing research.”
“Tuscany? Really? Gosh, that’s great, Bella. Are you going by yourself?”
I heard her laughter again. “Oh, yes. Just me. That’s one of many things I like about being single. I don’t have to check with anybody. I can go where I want, when I want.”
Bella was extremely attractive and she had male companions, but she had always preferred companions to a spouse. And knowing her as I did, I could verify that at age fifty-seven, she never once regretted having no husband or children. She had a lovely town house in Savannah and three dogs that meant the world to her, and Bella had always been one of those women who created her own happiness and felt fulfilled doing so.
“Oh, by the way,” she said. “Any chance I could get an invitation to Cedar Key for Christmas? Do you think your mother would let me have that guest room?”
I jumped up from the stool in the kitchen. “Are you serious?” It had been a while since anything had caused me to be this happy. “Oh, Bella, of course you can come. I’
d love to see you. I haven’t seen you since Andrew’s funeral . . . and that certainly wasn’t a visit. When will you be here?”
“Well, you know I have to bring my babies, but they’ll get along just fine with Oliver, so we were going to drive down on that Sunday, the twenty-second. I’ll stay five or six nights if that’s okay.”
“Of course it’s okay. Gosh, you’ve made my entire month with this news.”
“Okay, well, great. Oh, I meant to ask you. Why are you home so early on a Friday afternoon? I meant to call the shop first but dialed this number instead. Isn’t the shop still open till five?”
I smiled. “Yeah, it is, but my mom and Chloe are there. Besides . . . I’m going out for dinner this evening. Getting picked up at seven.”
“Getting picked up? Well, now, that sounds interesting. I’d say you have a lot more to tell me. We’re not anywhere near ready to hang up.”
Now I was laughing. “Ah, but we are. I have a bubble bath planned, and then I need to get ready. But I will tell you . . . his name is Worthington Slater, it’s just a dinner, and I’ll call you next week with details. Love you,” I said, hanging up before she could ask any more questions.
I was still smiling as I placed my empty glass in the dishwasher. I adored Bella, and I had always considered myself fortunate to have such a good friend. I saw that it was going on four o’clock, so decided to pour myself a glass of wine and then take it with me to relax in that bubble bath.
Turning in front of the full-length mirror in my room, I caught the doubtful expression on my face. I didn’t exactly look bad, but I didn’t look great either. Walking closer, I could see shadows under my eyes caused by lack of sleep. And when had those extra lines appeared near my jaw? Even my hair seemed to lack any luster. A medium brown, it fell in a nondescript style to my chin. I had chosen to wear tan slacks with a pale yellow blouse. My weight was in proportion to my five-four height, and I wore the outfit well, so that wasn’t what was causing my doubts. I let out a deep sigh. It was the fact that at fifty-six I looked weary. I looked like a woman who had gone through a wringer and had emerged looking used, wrinkled, and dull.
