Running Stitches

by Carol Dean Jones

  “The school?” Sarah said, glaring at Sophie. “Why would you say that?”

  “It’s the only way we’re going to get any information. Do you have a better idea?”

  Sarah hesitantly said, “No. Not really.”

  “Okay then. Knock again and louder this time…wait, I’ll do it.” Sophie moved toward the door, opened the screen, took off her shoe, and used it to bang on the door.

  “WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?” the man yelled as he jerked the door open, now holding a beer.

  “I’ll ask again,” Sophie said, softly this time and with a smile. “Is Caitlyn here?”

  “No, and I don’t know where she is. And I don’t care where she is.” He, too, spoke more softly, but with a mocking tone and a sneer.

  “Okay,” Sophie said. “I understand that you don’t care where she is, but, since you’re her legal guardian, have you reported her missing to the police?”

  “No. Why would I do that? I don’t want her back.”

  “You wouldn’t like for her to come back home?” Sarah asked, trying to connect with a shred of fatherly concern.

  “Home? This isn’t her home,” he hollered. “And if you find her, don’t bring her here. I didn’t want nothin’ to do with that kid even when I thought she was mine. She’s nothin’ to me.”

  “When you THOUGHT she was yours? Isn’t she yours?” Sarah asked, sounding astounded. Of course, she knew Caitlyn was not his daughter, but she didn’t know Buck knew it.

  “Her mother told me she wasn’t mine,” Buck said, looking away from the women and seemed a bit sorrowful. They didn’t respond and, after a minute or so, his nasty tone returned. “I told her she would never see the kid again if she ran off. Then she told me the kid wasn’t even mine anyway. I didn’t believe her at first, but I found out for sure.” His tone had softened somewhat and he lit a cigarette.

  “How did you find out for sure?” Sarah asked.

  “I dragged the kid down to the Health Department and had a test. She’s not mine. She probably belongs to that criminal Cat used to be with.” His combative tone returned and his face twisted with emotion.

  Anger? Pain? Regret? Sarah wondered.

  “She isn’t mine and I’m glad. Not my kid. Not my problem.” Buck drank the rest of his beer in one swallow and tossed the can into the yard. He took a long drag on his cigarette and flicked the rest beyond the porch. He watched it land near the beer can. When he looked up, his eyes had softened somewhat, and he asked, “Why do you care?”

  “We’re trying to find her to make sure she’s safe. Would you be willing to call the police and report her missing? We could sure use their help.”

  The temporary softness was gone and he bellowed, “Absolutely not! I want nothin’ to do with the cops. Just leave me out of this.” He turned toward the door and Sarah could tell they weren’t going to get any help from Buckley. She could see why Caitlyn didn’t want to live with this man once her mother was gone.

  Before he got the door closed, Sophie asked one more question, hoping they might get a lead on where to find her. “Have you heard from Catherine?”

  “Are you kidding?” Buckley exploded, turning to face the women again. “I’d better not hear from that good fer nothin’ bitch.” His face twisted into an angry snarl, and his fists were clinched. Sarah and Sophie knew it was time to leave. They turned and quickly walked toward their car.

  “Perhaps they’re both better off away from this man,” Sarah muttered as they approached their car. Buck continued to stand in front of the house until they drove away.

  “Okay,” Sophie asked, “What next?”

  * * *

  “You did WHAT?” Charles bellowed. Sarah had never seen him this upset. “I can’t believe you two women would go anywhere near that man alone after what Silverman told you about him.”

  “Charles, please. Calm down. We were very careful. We went during the day and we stayed outside and talked to him on the porch. I thought we’d get farther as two women simply trying to help Caitlyn. And turn around! I don’t want to talk to your back.” Sarah could feel herself getting flushed.

  “And did you get anywhere?” Charles asked, a bit sarcastically. He did, however, turn around and face her.

  “No,” she said in a defensive tone. “No, but I’m not sorry we went, and I don’t think he would have talked with us at all if you’d been there.”

  Sarah was not happy that she found herself defending her actions to Charles. She had been on her own for over twenty years and, she felt, had made pretty good decisions for herself. She didn’t want to go into it with Charles right now, but she knew the subject would need to be discussed if they were to continue to be friends.

  Sarah knew their friendship was developing into something more and, if that was the case, there needed to be clear ground rules. She was a very strong, independent woman. She realized that Charles’ career had required that he present himself as decisive and in control, but that was not what Sarah wanted in a relationship.

  They stared into each other’s eyes for a few moments, both looking ready for a fight, but suddenly he dropped his eyes and softly said, “I’m sorry, hon. I didn’t mean to go off on you. I was just scared. I don’t ever want anything to happen to you. I don’t want to lose you. Not ever.”

  “I care about you, too, Charles. But you have to understand that I won’t be wrapped in tissue and put on the shelf for safe keeping. I live my life and I’m not accustomed to asking permission. But if it helps you, I can tell you that I value my life and that I’m extremely careful and don’t take unnecessary chances. But I’m also not a shrinking violet. And I can’t believe that’s even what you would want.”

  “You’re right,” he said with a smile. “I love you for the woman you are.” They were both silent for a few seconds. The word love hadn’t made its way into their previous conversations. Sarah wasn’t sure what to do with it.

  Instead of words, she touched his cheek gently and smiled. He returned her smile and nodded his head almost imperceptibly. “We’ll be fine,” he said gently pulled her into his arms, holding her close.

  She laid her head on his chest and said, just as gently, “Yes we will.”

  Chapter 12

  “Today’s block is called the bow tie block and I’m sure you’ll find it very easy to complete. We’re going to make four small bow tie blocks and set them together in a four patch like the one you see here,” Ruth said as she pointed to the block on the sample quilt. “It’s speculated that this block was used to reminded fugitive slaves to wear proper dress when they were walking through towns so they wouldn’t stand out. I’ve read that ties and other clothing were often provided at the various stations along the trail.”

  Ruth went on to say, “But I want you to remember that there’s no written proof of quilts being used as secret codes. Some historians say it is simply a myth. I believe it’s true, but I guess I want to believe it, being a quilter. I’d like to think our predecessors devised such an ingenious scheme.”

  The group talked about the Underground Railroad and speculated about the possible ways quilts could have been used. Everyone in the class wanted the stories to be true.

  “Okay. Let’s start.” The class was becoming quite proficient at cutting and stitching accurately and, as predicted, everyone finished early. Again, they put all their blocks on the design board and stood back to admire them.

  A design board. That’s what I need in my sewing room, Sarah thought. She made a mental note to ask Charles to help her figure out a way to hang it. She decided to stop at the craft shop on her way home and purchase a few yards of felt and an extra-large piece of foam board. After class she told Ruth about her plan. “I have an extra foam board in the back,” Ruth said and went back to get it. “This is leftover from one of my projects. You are welcome to take it; it’s just taking up room here.”

  “Thank you, Ruth,” Sarah said happily. “Now, all I will need is the felt.”

  “
I don’t use felt,” Ruth responded. “I use a piece of cotton batting. I think it works even better than felt. I spray the foam board with spray adhesive and just smooth it on. It works great.”

  “I have a big piece of batting left over from the table runner. I’ll use that! Thanks so much for your help, Ruth.”

  “Always glad to help! I wanted to talk to you anyway,” Ruth added. “I’m going to drive to Ohio on Tuesday. I decided it would be better to go during the week so Katie won’t be inundated with customers. Thursday is class day, but she can handle that too. I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone.”

  “Did you tell her where you’re going?” Sarah asked.

  “Yes, but only after her father convinced me I should. Nathan thought that she should go with me, but I have no idea what’ll happen there. It could be devastating for her, and that’s not the way I want her to meet her extended family.”

  “That makes sense.” Sarah responded. “Good luck with this. Take your cell phone and call me from the road if you need to talk.”

  Ruth gave Sarah a hug and thanked her. Sarah left the shop pleased that she was making headway on Charles’ quilt. She realized that she would need to make a few extra blocks in order to make the quilt large enough for his bed. She didn’t actually know how big his bed was. I’m sure not going to ask for a tour of his bedroom.

  * * *

  When Sarah got home, she immediately dialed Amanda’s cell phone. She wanted to tell her about their meeting with Daniel Buckley. “I’m glad you called,” Amanda said when she answered. “I knew you were going to talk to Buckley this week, and I was wondering how it went.”

  “It didn’t go well. We didn’t find out much of anything. He’s just as everyone describes him: a very angry, belligerent man who doesn’t seem to care about anyone. As far as Caitlyn goes, he refuses to help in any way. I did find out that he knows he isn’t her father.”

  “Really? How did he find out?” Amanda asked.

  “Well, it sounded like he tried to threaten his wife by saying he would take Caitlyn away from her if she tried to leave him. Her reaction to that threat was to tell him that he had no claim on Caitlyn -- she wasn’t his daughter.”

  “Did he believe her?” Amanda asked.

  “No. But he had blood tests done, and they confirmed Catherine’s story. He suspects that Andy is the father. But he doesn’t seem to care in the least about Caitlyn, and I’m not sure he ever did.”

  “Is he at least going to report her missing?” Amanda asked. “When I checked with missing persons in Hamilton, they didn’t have anything on her.”

  “No,” Sarah responded. “He said he didn’t care where she was and didn’t want her back.”

  “Well, guess what,” Amanda responded with obvious outrage. “He doesn’t have that option. Our state approved Caylee’s Law this year, and parents can be prosecuted for not reporting their missing child.”

  “Really? Is that named after that baby that went missing and was ultimately found dead?”

  “Yes. The mother knew she was missing for a month and didn’t report it. This law has gone into effect in five or six states and is being proposed in many others. We’re one of the fortunate ones. It went into effect earlier this year!”

  “That’s great!” Sarah responded. “But will he still be responsible now that he knows he isn’t the father?” Sarah asked.

  “Yes! Absolutely! He’s still the responsible caregiver.”

  “Well then, let’s go tell him what he has to do,” Sarah said enthusiastically.

  “Slow down, my friend! Let the police handle this one.” Amanda said emphatically. “I’ll call Hamilton and let them know about the missing child. They’ll follow up with Buckley and I’ll let you know when it’s done.”

  Several hours later, a female officer from Hamilton called Amanda and told her they were opening a missing child case on Caitlyn Buckley. She shared with Amanda that they’d gone to Buckley’s house and offered him a ride to the police station to either file a missing person’s report on his daughter or to be booked under Caylee’s law. His choice. Buckley grudgingly filed the report. Amanda thanked the officer and asked to be kept in the loop.

  “Success!” Amanda announced cheerfully when she called Sarah later that day. “Now we have the Hamilton police department out there looking for Caitlyn!”

  “Hooray!” Sarah cried.

  Sarah called Sophie to catch her up on everything that had happened and to invite her to dinner. She had put lasagna in the oven right after Amanda called and hoped to celebrate the good news with Sophie. Sophie offered to bring a salad and the wine.

  Sarah picked up the phone to call Charles and invite him as well, but hung up before dialing. She decided this celebration belonged to the two of them. Besides, she was hoping to talk Sophie into the hula hoop class and maybe, just maybe, after a couple of glasses of wine, Sophie would agree.

  “WHAT?” Sophie screeched an hour later, sputtering wine across the table. “I’d be more likely to take a belly dancing class!”

  “I was just hoping…” Sarah began.

  “Well, you can just keep hoping, kiddo. You aren’t going to catch me making a fool of myself in some silly hula hoop class!”

  “Okay. I’ll drop the issue. And tomorrow I’ll sign us both up for belly dancing,” Sarah said nonchalantly.

  “I’m not amused,” Sophie responded with a frown as she helped herself to another slice of lasagna.

  Sarah was not going to give up. “Well, no matter what you say, I see hooping in your future.”

  “Humph.”

  Chapter 13

  It was a beautiful, warm day and Sarah wanted fresh air and sunshine. She called Charles and he agreed that it was a perfect day for a picnic. “Barney will love that,” he said enthusiastically. “And, by the way, so will I,” he added somewhat timidly. Things had been a bit strained between them since their confrontation after Sarah’s trip to the Buckley home. He was pleased that she had suggested something fun and relaxing. They needed to spend that kind of time together.

  “Where shall we go?” she asked when he arrived.

  “Well, we can talk about that. I was thinking about suggesting that state park out toward Hamilton. I heard they have picnic sites and hiking trails. Are you up for a hike?” he asked.

  “I’d love that!” she responded. She had missed several weeks of water aerobics and could feel the difference already. She was getting stiff and her flexibility was suffering. “It seems like, after a certain age, my joints seem to get rusty if I don’t keep them moving.”

  “I know exactly what you mean,” Charles responded. “After my physical therapy ended, I didn’t keep up with the exercises, and I could feel how quickly I went downhill. The lap swimming really helps me.”

  Three years after Charles retired from the police department, he suffered a debilitating stroke which left him temporarily unable to speak or move his left side. After an extended hospitalization, he was moved to the nursing home in Cunningham Village for rehabilitation. By the time Sarah met him, he’d been discharged and was living in an independent apartment in the Village, but was still working with a physical therapist to build his strength. Swimming laps turned out to be his favorite exercise. Often he would swim laps at one end of the indoor pool while Sarah took her water aerobics class at the other end. He liked stealing glances at her walking past in her bathing suit.

  Even in her late sixties, he found her to be a very striking woman. She had clearly maintained her weight and was conscientious about healthy eating and getting adequate exercise. She often talked to him about things she learned on the internet about living a healthy life style. He wasn’t surprised when she joked about taking the hula hoop class. However, he adamantly refused to join her!

  As they drove out of town, they talked about things going on at the center and classes they might take later in the year. Sarah told him about a design board she would like for him to help her make. He had no idea what a design
board was, but he assured her that he would be happy to make it with her. He was careful not to say he would make it for her because he was beginning to understand that she was a very independent woman who wished to remain just that. His wife had been much more dependent on him. Of course, she had been ill for those last years. He enjoyed the feeling of being needed, but was learning to appreciate having a relationship with a woman who could hold her own.

  When they arrived at the park, they decided to leave the lunches in the cooler and hike to the waterfall. They checked the map on the park’s bulletin board and set off following the path up the hill. Barney pulled at his leash until he coughed, but there were signs saying dogs must be leashed. Charles spent a few minutes showing Barney how to do a modified heel and Barney picked it up immediately.

  The three walked side by side with only a few exceptions, such as when a squirrel crossed their path and Barney took off so suddenly that the leash slipped right out of Sarah’s hand. Fortunately, Barney stopped at the tree the squirrel had scampered up, and Charles was able to retrieve the leash while Barney was trying to follow the squirrel up the tree. As they walked away, Barney continued to stare at the squirrel on the outstretched limb with a puzzled look. How did he do that? Barney probably wondered.

  All in all, it was a delightful day for all three. They took Barney’s leash off for a few minutes and let him splash in the waterfall. Sarah took off her shoes and sat on the side of the stream with her feet dangling in the water. Charles secretly admired her dainty feet and slim ankles. Her hair had become curlier from the moisture and the exercise. He knew he was falling in love with this incredible woman and was so afraid of scaring her off. She seemed reluctant to move forward with their relationship. He wondered how she felt about him. Someday he would ask, but not today. Today was too perfect to take a chance.

  At that moment, Barney came and stood close to them and shook. Water sprayed everywhere, and they both ducked, laughing. “Barney, stop!” Sarah cried but she was laughing too much for Barney to take her seriously. Once he felt sufficiently free of water, Barney moved close to her and gave her a kiss on the cheek. Charles reached over and kissed the opposite cheek. “Wow!” She declared. “How much loving can one woman take?”