by Terri DuLong
I wasn’t quite sure what my mother was referring to. My judgment of Andrew? My difficulty in forgiving his indiscretion? My reluctance to accept Fiona as a part of my family?
I knew the conversation was at an end when she got up to remove the casserole from the oven, and I also knew that, as usual, my mother had given me a lot to think about.
Later that evening I got back on the computer and began to Google hotels in Paris. I narrowed down my search by arrondissement. From my last visit there, I knew I preferred the Left Bank with its Bohemian atmosphere at the sidewalk cafés and restaurants. I knew I loved the Latin Quarter, the boulevard Saint-Germain area, and Montparnasse. So I began checking various hotels for availability with my dates.
Three hours later I realized that trying to find accommodations in Paris over Thanksgiving was proving to be a daunting task. Either there was no availability, I’d have to sell my firstborn child to afford the rates, or the write-up on the hotel from previous guests wasn’t enticing.
I rolled my chair back from the computer and massaged my temples. Hours of staring at a screen had brought back my headache of earlier that day.
Damn. Now what? I had already purchased my airline ticket. Had even made my seat selection. Way at the back of the 777, where the configuration was two seats across. I chose the window seat, and with a bit of luck, the aisle seat would remain empty, giving me some stretch-out room.
But I had no place to stay. There had to be a decent hotel, with availability at a reasonable price. Didn’t there? My day had definitely been one that I wasn’t sorry to see come to an end. Despite my lack of accommodations, I drifted off to sleep thinking about French wines, patisseries, and sidewalk cafés.
19
By the time I arrived at the knitting group Thursday evening, I was no closer to finding a place to stay in Paris. Maybe my plan would fall apart before it even began. I turned around to see Monica and Clarissa walk into the shop.
“I know it’s almost time for your knitting group to begin, but I was wondering if Clarissa could purchase some yarn.”
“Of course,” I said, taking in Clarissa’s extremely short hairstyle. Gone was the long, wavy hair cascading down her back, and in its place was about a half inch of hair covering her scalp. “I really like your cut,” I told her. And I did. With a pretty face like she had, the length of her hair didn’t detract from her looks at all.
A huge smile covered her face. “Thanks. But I think my head might be a little cold this winter, so I want to knit myself a hat.”
“Smart girl, and I applaud you for donating your hair to the Locks of Love. It’s a very worthy organization, and a lot of girls wouldn’t part with their hair like you did.”
“Thanks,” she said and walked over to inspect a new shipment of baby alpaca.
“Is she really okay with it?” I whispered to Monica.
She nodded. “Yeah, she is. Adam and I are so proud of her, but I think Clarissa would prefer to stay low-key about it.”
I nodded back and looked up as some of the women walked in the door.
Flora looked around before settling herself on the sofa. “Is your mother coming tonight?”
“She is and should be here shortly.”
Clarissa returned to the counter holding up a skein of beautiful pale pink baby alpaca. “Do you think this would be okay?”
“Perfect,” Monica and I said at the same time.
“Do you have a pattern at home or do you need to get one?”
“Monica found one at home for me. It’s a French beret and really cute. Is this enough yarn, do you think?”
Monica read the label and said, “No, for the beret you’ll need one more skein.”
“Can you stay for the knitting group?” I asked as I rang up the order.
“Not tonight. We left Adam at home with the triplets and he has papers to grade for tomorrow, so we promised we’d just come down to get the yarn.”
“Maybe next week, then,” I said, as my mother walked in, followed by Raylene, Sydney, and Corabeth.
I was just sitting down when the door chimes tinkled again and we looked up to see Shelby Sullivan walk in.
“Gosh,” I said. “I haven’t seen you in ages.”
“It has been a while,” my mother agreed as she waved a hand toward a chair. “Welcome, Shelby. Come and join us.”
Shelby Sullivan was Cedar Key’s first best-selling author. Now in her early sixties, she lived out by the airport with her husband and continued to sell romance novels that women across the country loved.
“Thanks,” she said, sitting down beside me. “I just finished my novel a few days ago and it’s on its way to my editor. Now I’m on holiday till early January.”
“You have a good schedule worked out, don’t you?” Sydney said.
Shelby nodded as she reached into her knitting bag and removed a gold and tan cable sweater she’d obviously just recently started. “I always plan to finish my last novel for the year by early November, and then it’s my time to get ready for the holidays, do my Christmas shopping, baking, and cooking. Not to mention allowing me time to get more knitting done.”
“Well, good for you,” Corabeth said. “And congratulations on another manuscript finished.”
“Thanks, and how’s your latest one coming along?”
“As spicy as ever, and I should have it completed in a few months.”
“So what’s the latest news on the island?” Shelby asked. “When I’m writing, I feel so isolated. Bring me up to date.”
“Well,” Raylene said, leaning forward in her chair. “We hear that a movie company is coming to Cedar Key to do a film. Any chance it could have something to do with one of your books?”
Shelby laughed. “If so, I don’t know a thing about it. From your mouth to Spielberg’s ears,” she said, causing all of us to laugh.
“So you’re denying it has to do with your books?” Raylene persisted.
“I’m afraid so,” Shelby told her.
“How’s Josie doing?” my mother asked. “We don’t see much of her lately either.”
“She’s doing very well. Hard to believe she’s already graduated from her RN program.”
“That’s right,” I said. “This past June. I heard she took a position at the Urgent Care Center in Gainesville. Does she like it?”
Shelby nodded. “Yes, she seems to. It’s very good hours and only one weekend a month. So she certainly accomplished what she hoped to do—having a career with a decent salary and being able to spend more time with Orli.”
“I saw Orli in the post office last week.” My mother shook her head. “Goodness, she’s a young lady now. No more little girl.”
“True. She turns sixteen the end of December. So far the teen years haven’t been too bad.” I saw her glance stray to the archway in the wall. “I heard you’re going to be opening a needlepoint shop. Gosh, I haven’t done that in years, but I’m looking forward to browsing in there. When are you planning to open?”
I refrained from lifting my head from my knitting or from answering and heard my mother say, “Well . . . we’ve had a bit of a setback. We were hoping to open before Christmas, but I’m afraid that won’t happen now. Apparently there’s a small leak in the roof that caused ceiling damage, but Worth is attempting to find some workers to get it all fixed. So . . . we won’t be opening now until after the first of the year.”
“Oh, that is a shame,” Sydney said. “I know how anxious you were to open, Marin.”
I nodded and heard my mother say, “She was. However, I think Marin has found something to occupy some of the time between now and then.”
I looked up from my knitting to find a group of expectant faces looking at me, waiting for an answer, and I smiled. These women allowed no possible information to escape them.
“Well . . . I’m planning to take a trip to Paris. But . . . now I’m not sure that will even happen. I was foolish enough to book my flight first and now I’m finding it almost im
possible to find a place to stay.”
“Oh, how exciting,” Sydney said. “When are you planning to leave?”
“November twenty-fifth, a few days before Thanksgiving, and I guess that’s the problem. I didn’t think about so many hotels being booked solid during that time. The ones I’ve found so far that are available are so pricey I can’t justify paying that.”
“Yeah, the holidays can be a busy time in Paris,” Sydney said. “Let me talk to Noah and see if he might have some suggestions for hotels, and you should also talk to Lucas and Grace. They’re very familiar with Paris also.”
“Good idea. I’ll do that tomorrow.”
“Did you say you plan to be there for Thanksgiving?” I heard Raylene question.
“Yes. I’ll be there two weeks, so I’ll be back early December, in time for Christmas.”
“Well, that doesn’t seem very proper. Leaving your mother alone and all.”
Before I had a chance to reply, I heard my mother say, “Proper has nothing to do with it, Raylene. Marin is a grown woman and should be able to make her own choices. She’s had a very difficult year, and besides, I won’t be alone. I’ll be spending the day with Sydney and Noah.”
Raylene shrugged her shoulders before giving off a sniff. “Well, I know it’s none of my business, but I’m just saying . . . in my day, a daughter was always present for any holiday gathering.”
“Right,” Corabeth said. “This is none of your business, and Marin, I think it’s a wonderful idea.”
“I agree,” Flora said. “Weren’t you there after you graduated college?”
“I was, and I’ve always wanted to go back. I spent some time there with a couple girlfriends, and then time got away from me and I never had the chance to return until now.”
“And you’re traveling there alone? All by yourself?” Raylene asked.
“Yes,” I told her. “Contrary to what many might believe, Paris is a very safe city. Of course I’ll take precautions and not do anything or go anywhere foolish, so I think I’ll be just fine.”
Raylene sniffed again. “I just can’t imagine being there alone. What if something happened? What if you got sick?”
“God, Raylene, stop being such a downer,” Flora said. “They do have doctors in Paris, and believe it or not, many French people speak English, although I have no doubt that Marin will be brushing up on her French before she leaves.”
In all honesty, I hadn’t thought about that but made a mental note to dig out my old French translation book or purchase a new one.
“Whatever,” Raylene mumbled before she resumed her knitting, and I couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to the woman who had seemed to mellow earlier in the year. Normally cranky, judgmental, and a gossip, for a time Raylene had become almost sweet. Her husband, Mr. Carl, had insisted that the transformation had all come about because of Berkley’s signature clam chocolates. He made a point of telling everybody that the rich, dark delight had magical qualities that Berkley had added to the recipe. So much for magic, I guess.
20
I was the first to arrive at the yarn shop on Friday morning. My mother would be in after lunch and Chloe was due to arrive in an hour. I peeked through the archway and then remembered that Worth had said he’d be in a little after ten, as he wanted to make more phone calls about finding somebody to do the roof.
I went to prepare the coffeepot and recalled his apology of the day before. Poor guy. It wasn’t his fault about the roof leak and setback for my opening, but I got the feeling he somehow felt responsible.
And I was right. Because when he arrived he gave me another apology before saying, “But I do have good news. I’ve found some fellows from Williston that have experience with roofs. They’ll be here this afternoon to take a look at it.”
“Oh, that is good news, Worth. And, please, no more apologies. It’s not your fault this happened. Really.”
A smile covered his face. “Okay, but how about joining me this evening for a drink at the Black Dog?”
My smile now matched his. “Sounds great. I’ll meet you there around seven?”
“Perfect,” he said, before turning to go into the other room.
A little while later I looked up to see Josie Sullivan enter the shop. “Hey, Josie. Nice to see you. Your mother was at the knitting group last night. How’ve you been?”
“Busy. That’s why I haven’t been in here for a while. Between graduating in June, taking my state boards, and then starting my new job, I haven’t had much time for knitting. But things are slowing down a little and I’m missing those needles and yarn in my hands. I know I don’t have much time between now and Christmas, but I thought about making a vest for Orli.”
“I have just the thing,” I told her, walking to the book of patterns. Flipping through, I found the one I had in mind. “How about this? It’s really easy, just knit and purl, and it works up very fast. Plus, it can be done in a cotton yarn, which is perfect for a Florida winter.”
“Oh, that is cute. I think Orli would like that. Maybe a pima cotton?”
“Yes, that would work well.” I pointed to the wall and then shook my head. “Darn. We really need more room in here. We got in a new shipment of pima the other day, but I haven’t unpacked it yet because I’m not sure where to put it. Browse through those in the cubbyholes, and if you don’t see a color you like, I’ll open the new boxes and let you look through those.”
“Thanks.”
Chloe arrived a few minutes later and walked in waving an index finger in my direction, a frown on her face.
“What?” I questioned.
“I missed the knitting group last night and only found out this morning that you’ve planned a trip to Paris the end of November. Shame on you for not telling me.”
I saw a smile emerge and knew she was joking with me. “I’m sorry about that. I only made the plans two days ago, and believe me, they were very spontaneous.”
“Well, good for you, I say. You should go, Marin. Your boys both have plans for Thanksgiving, Dora is all set for dinner, and you need to get away and clear your head.”
I laughed. What was it about another female backing you up and encouraging you that made you feel even more empowered? “Thanks, but I’m not sure it’ll even happen. I’m having a real problem trying to find a place to stay.”
“Well, I just came from the coffee café, and Grace said to pop over later. Lucas has some names of hotels to give you. You can’t let a little thing like accommodations keep you from going.”
“Right,” I said, letting out a chuckle. “I could always sleep on the pavement along the Seine.”
Chloe laughed as Josie approached the counter, her arms full of yarn.
“Josie, hi. I didn’t even see you over there in the corner. How are you? It’s been a while.”
“I know. But it’s time to get back to my knitting. I think I’m having withdrawal.”
“That does happen. Are you making a sweater?”
“A vest for Orli for Christmas. I hope. Marin assures me this pattern will work up fast.”
Chloe glanced at it and nodded. “She’s right. It will, and I love that color of yarn.”
“Yeah, Orli loves turquoise, so this is perfect. Okay, ring me up, ladies.”
Chloe totaled the amount while I placed the pattern and yarn in a shopping bag.
“How’s Ben doing?” Chloe asked her.
I recalled how my mother had related to me a few years before that Josie had reconnected with Ben Sudbury. Mr. Al’s nephew, Ben, had spent childhood summers on the island with his mother, Al’s sister, Annie. But when Annie passed away, Ben had not returned since the funeral—until a few years before, just before Christmas, in an attempt to place his uncle in a nursing home and sell off the house. Poor Mr. Al was being accused of not being of sound mind because of the mess his property had become. But through the efforts of Josie’s eleven-year-old daughter, Orli, and other children, the community had banded together to clea
n up the property, preventing Mr. Al’s placement in a nursing home and the sale of the house. In the process, Ben and Al reconciled, and although they’d had a rocky start, Josie and Ben had begun a long-distance relationship.
“Oh, he’s fine,” Josie said, but she didn’t sound very enthusiastic.
“Does he have any plans to get back down here soon?”
“Oh, yeah. He’ll be here for Christmas. He knows that Mr. Al is getting up there in age, so he feels it’s important to spend the holidays with him.”
“Good,” Chloe said as I passed the bag to Josie.
“Thanks,” she said. “And maybe I can make the knitting group next week.”
“That would be great,” I told her. “We look forward to seeing you.”
After she left, I looked at Chloe. “Wasn’t Ben supposed to relocate down here a few years ago?”
She nodded. “Yeah, that was the plan. He was going to resign his position as editor at that publishing house and sublet his apartment in New York City. His plan was to come here in order to spend more time with his uncle and also to work on a novel. I think it was also in his plans to try and develop a relationship with Josie.”
“What happened?”
“Well, the economy got even worse, Josie got accepted to nursing school, and I think the timing was all wrong. From what I heard, he thought perhaps he should keep his job for the time being and just fly down here as often as he could, which is what he’s been doing. And with Josie in school, she was extra busy studying, so it really didn’t leave her much time for romance.”
“Hmm, that’s too bad. Well, she said he’s coming at Christmas. Maybe the timing will be better.”
“Could be.”
When I finished lunch, I headed down Second Street to the coffee café to speak to Lucas about possible hotels. I was pleased to see Grace sitting at a table with Solange on her lap when I walked in.
