Stitches in Time (8 page)

I
awoke Saturday morning and my first thought was my dream of the previous evening.
Total nonsense,
I thought. I had no idea why I was having these silly dreams but I had more important things to think about today. I glanced at the clock to see it was just before seven and remembered Haley had to be at the florist shop by eight.

I heard her in the shower, so I headed downstairs to prepare coffee and my daughter's breakfast.

“What would you like to eat?” I asked as she walked into the kitchen.

“Oh, just some yogurt and fruit this morning,” she said, heading to the fridge. “Are you excited about your date tonight?”

“Yeah, I think I am.”

“Good.” Haley opened a yogurt container and perched on the stool at the counter. “I think it would be nice for you to have a male companion.”

I laughed. “Why is that?”

“Well, Dad has somebody new in his life and I think you should too.”

It was at times like this that my daughter seemed much older than her fourteen years.

“It's just a dinner date, Haley. We may never see each other again.”

“Oh, Nana texted me and asked if I could help her the day the movers arrive. She said she'll have a lot of boxes to get unpacked. Would it be okay if I go over to her new place?”

“Sure,” I mumbled, but it annoyed me that my mother seemed to be luring Haley into her web. What if my mom ended up not liking it here and took off again? I didn't want to see my daughter hurt in the way I had been.

* * *

I arrived at Glam just before ten and was ready for Helen to work her magic. By the time she finished, I had to admit that this woman had a talent for doing hair.

I reached up to touch the gorgeous French twist at the back of my head. Taking the mirror she passed me, I spun around in the chair to see her creation.

“Oh, Helen, it looks beautiful. So sophisticated.”

“I heard about the dress you're wearing tonight and I think this style is the finishing touch.”

I had to agree.

I spent a quiet afternoon knitting and then decided to pamper myself with a bubble bath. By the time I emerged from the tub, it was after five, and I could hear Haley and Tina downstairs. I walked into the kitchen, where Haley was making grilled cheese sandwiches. Both girls looked up and gasped.

“Oh, Mom,” Haley exclaimed. “Your hair looks gorgeous.”

“It really does, Mrs. Wainwright,” Tina agreed.

I smiled and secretly hoped that Chadwick Price would also think so. “Thanks. Are you girls all set for supper?”

“Yeah. I'm making grilled cheese and soup for us.”

Tina jumped up from the stool. “I'll open the can of soup.”

“And after I leave, you'll lock up here and go over to Mavis Anne's?”

Haley nodded as she flipped a sandwich on the grill. “I told Mavis Anne we'd be there shortly after seven.”

“Okay. I'm going upstairs to put my makeup on and get dressed.”

I walked over to the vanity where I kept my makeup bag only to discover it wasn't in the usual spot. I twirled around the room wondering where on earth it could be. My gaze flew to the top of the bureau, the bedside table, the desk. And no makeup bag.

I went to the top of the stairs and hollered down to Haley. “Do you know where my makeup is?”

She appeared at the foot of the stairs. “No. It's always on your vanity.”

“I know. It's not there. You didn't take it to borrow something?”

Haley shook her head. “No. It has to be in your room. Do you want me to help you look?”

“No, that's okay. You go eat your supper.”

I walked back into the bedroom and stood on the threshold feeling confused and upset. Maybe I'd left it in the bathroom? I walked in, and after a thorough search, still no makeup bag.

Walking back into the bedroom, I said, “Where the hell
are
you?”

The only place I hadn't looked was the bureau drawers. I just knew it couldn't be in there, but I pulled the top drawer open. An aroma of Chanel No. 5 drifted up to me—at the same time I spied my makeup bag nestled on top of my underwear. Reaching for the bag, I felt a chill go through me. How on earth had it gotten in my drawer? I never would have put it there. It was then I recalled Chloe's story about also smelling this particular French perfume when she sometimes opened one of the bureau drawers. The very same signature perfume that Emmalyn Overby was noted for.

I took the bag and went to sit at the vanity table to begin applying my makeup. By the time I finished, I had decided that I must have inadvertently tossed the bag into the bureau drawer.

I was ready to slip the gorgeous dress on and called down to Haley again.

“Any chance you could zip and hook the dress for me?”

“Come on, Tina,” she called into the kitchen. “My mom needs help.”

We slipped the dress over my head and Haley fastened the back. I put on a pair of strappy black heels and then sat at the vanity. Holding the rhinestone headband on my forehead, Haley tied the back to hold it in place.

I stood up and walked to the cheval mirror in the corner of the room. I had to admit that a transformation had taken place. While I was always confident about how I looked in public, what I now saw in the mirror made me take in a breath. If I hadn't known better, I would have thought the image that stared back at me was a very beautiful and chic woman of the 1930s.

“What do you think?” I asked as I turned toward Haley and Tina.

I could see their approval in the expressions on their faces.

“Oh, Mom,” Haley said. “You are drop-dead gorgeous.”

“Mrs. Wainwright . . . you're smokin' hot.”

I laughed as I turned back to the mirror for another look and nodded. “You know, I think I have to agree with both of you.”

The ringing of the doorbell interrupted any further indulgence.

“Oh, let me go let him in, Mom. I'll introduce myself. You have to make an entrance down the staircase.”

“Are you sure?” I asked.

Haley was already racing from the room. “Absolutely,” she called over her shoulder with Tina close behind. “And wait a few minutes before you come down.”

I let out a deep breath and allowed myself another glance in the mirror. I walked to the bed and picked up the black lacy shawl that Chloe had let me borrow and a small black evening bag.

I blew out a puff of air, looked around the room, and said, “Okay. Time to get this show on the road.”

I heard chatter as I descended the staircase. A moment later conversation stopped and three sets of eyes were staring up at me as I took the final steps.

“Hi, Chadwick. I see you've met my daughter and her friend.”

He nodded, and for a second I thought perhaps he'd lost his voice as his gaze went from my face down the length of my body and back up to my face. He cleared his throat and nodded again. “Yes, I have. You look amazing.”

I grinned as I realized Chadwick, the confident professional, seemed to have reverted to an awkward teenage boy on his first date.

“So do you,” I said. And he did.

Wearing a black suit, crisp white shirt, and gray tie, he was the kind of man that definitely turned female heads. Curly dark hair with just enough gray to be distinguished, a bronze tan and fit body, Chadwick Price caused my heart to skip a beat—and he was my date for the evening.

“Okay,” I said, regaining my own composure before giving last-minute instructions to Haley. “I think we're ready.”

Before we walked out the door, I turned around and glanced toward my daughter. She smiled, nodded and gave me a thumbs-up. I was pretty sure she approved of Chadwick Price.

O
n the short drive to Thirty-one, Chadwick and I made small talk about weather, my daughter, and a recent sale he had completed. He handed the keys to the valet to park the car and we walked into the supper club.

A Sinatra song filled the air and the décor made me feel I'd stepped back in time. Tables covered with white cloths and chairs upholstered in black-and-white zebra print filled the center of the room. Dark walls held large prints of Florida natives, giving one the feel of the tropics. A small stage with red velvet curtains was located to the side of the dining room with a highly polished bar opposite. We were escorted to a table for two where the waiter pulled out my chair for me to be seated and passed a wine list to Chadwick. After perusing it for a few moments, Chadwick made a choice, ordered a bottle, and then turned his full attention to me.

“So,” he said, leaning forward with a smile. “Amazing doesn't seem to be an adequate enough word to describe how you look tonight.”

I couldn't recall the last time a man had been so complimentary. “Thank you. I have to thank Mavis Anne for letting me borrow this dress and headband.”

“I wondered where you found a vintage gown like that.”

“Actually, it belonged to her sister, Emmalyn. She was Yarrow's mother.”

He nodded. “Yes, that's right. I remember hearing about her. She was tragically killed pretty young, wasn't she?”

“Yes, a car accident when she was only twenty-eight.”

The waiter returned, and I was surprised to see that Chadwick had ordered champagne and not just regular wine. The waiter popped the cork, poured a small amount into a flute, and passed it to Chadwick to sample.

He took a sip and nodded. “Very nice.”

The waiter then proceeded to fill my glass before topping off Chadwick's.

When the waiter retreated, Chadwick lifted his flute to touch mine. “Here's to us,” he said. “A new friendship and wherever it might lead us.”

I smiled and nodded. “To friendship. Oh, this is wonderful.”

“I'm glad you like it. Piper-Heidsieck, from the Champagne region of France.”

I took another sip. In addition to his good looks, this man projected a cosmopolitan demeanor.

The waiter brought the menus, and Chadwick told him he'd signal when we were ready to order.

“Tell me about yourself,” he said, leaning back in his chair as if he had all the time in the world to listen. Just to me.

“There really isn't much to tell. I grew up in Pennsylvania. My mom left when I was fifteen, so it was just my dad and me.”

“That had to be rough on you.”

“It was. Especially because she left us to be with her lover. She took off for Oregon and taught art classes at the university there.”

He nodded and waited for me to continue.

“I went to Penn State and married Roger after eight years of dating. We had a decent life—until we didn't. But Haley was the bonus from our marriage.”

“She seems like a really nice young lady.”

“She is. Sometimes I feel she's more mature than I am. We've had our ups and downs, but I think we're on a good track now. I just always wanted the two of us to have the relationship that my mother and I never had.”

“That's understandable. And your mother? You never hear from her?”

“Not much over these thirty years. But she's retired now, apparently the lover is no longer in the picture . . . and she wants to worm her way back into my life.”

Chadwick took a sip of champagne before saying, “And I take it that you're not interested?”

“Not really, no. But she's not going to make it easy. She's decided to relocate here, to Ormond Beach.”

“Hmm. And how do you feel about that?”

“I certainly can't stop her. She's bought a place at The Trails and will be here in two weeks.”

“Yeah, you could have some difficult times ahead.”

I was surprised that Chadwick didn't try to placate me, by telling me it might all work out and things would be fine.

“Shall we look over the menu?” he asked, passing the large leather booklet to me.

We decided on identical choices: an appetizer of baked herb goat cheese and roasted peppers followed by a spinach salad. For our entrée we both chose chicken cordon bleu roulade.

Chadwick gave our order to the waiter, who then refilled our flutes.

When he left the table, I said, “Your turn. Tell me about you.”

“Well, I grew up in the Atlanta area. My father still owns a real estate company there. I had an older brother, Aaron, who passed away from cancer about twenty-five years ago. Maybe Chloe mentioned this to you?”

When I shook my head no, he paused a second before continuing.

“After Aaron passed away, I decided to move down here. I had just turned thirty and it was time for me to establish my own business and life.”

“And you've never been married?”

He laughed. “No, never. Had a few serious relationships that eventually led nowhere, but that was it.” He took a sip of champagne and locked his eyes with mine. “I never found the right woman.”

As silly as it sounds, I had the strangest feeling that he wanted to add,
not until now.

We moved on to less personal topics such as sports, movies, music, and food. I was surprised to discover that we had a lot in common.

Our appetizers arrived and we continued talking. A singer had now taken the stage and was crooning old Dean Martin songs into the microphone.

I nodded toward the stage. “He's very good,” I said.

“He is,” Chadwick agreed. “Do you enjoy dancing?”

“I do, but it's been a million years. I'd probably step all over your toes.”

He laughed. “I doubt that. We'll give it a whirl after dinner.”

Our conversation continued through the main course and I was beginning to marvel that talking with Chadwick was so easy. As if I'd known him forever, and no matter what I told him, he wouldn't be shocked or disappointed or judgmental.

We both passed on dessert. After the waiter cleared away our dishes, he topped off our flutes with the remaining champagne.

The music was just beginning again. Chadwick stood, held out his hand to me, and said, “Dance with me.”

The moment I went into his arms and we began dancing, I had a feeling that we'd danced together before, which of course we hadn't. But he was so easy to follow and his arm around me felt right. He squeezed my hand, looked down at me, and smiled.

It was then I focused on the song and realized it was another old Dean Martin song, “Memories Are Made of This.” And I wondered. Were we beginning a journey of memories together?

After a few more dances Chadwick suggested we have a nightcap in the Havana Bar on the patio. We walked outside and found a padded loveseat in front of the fire pit. I was surprised that nobody else had claimed this spot. I held out my hands near the flame.

“Nice,” I said.

“Are you cold?”

“Not at all. This throws great heat.” I put the lace shawl over my shoulders and sat down.

We both remained quiet staring into the flames. A few minutes later a waiter placed two snifters of cognac on the table beside us.

When he left, Chadwick passed one to me and held up his glass. “Thank you for an incredibly great evening, Isabelle. I can't tell you how much I enjoyed it. You look so beautiful.”

He made me
feel
beautiful. “I did too. It's been a wonderful evening.”

We touched glasses and each took a sip.

He sat back and I felt his arm go around my shoulders, causing me to shiver.

“Are you sure you're not cold?” he asked, pulling me a little closer.

I smiled and shook my head. “No. Not at all.”

“So are you divorced now or are you still going through the process?”

“Actually, the documents will arrive this coming week. It's an amicable divorce . . . well, at least now it is. It was pretty shocking to me when Roger first left. But it's for the best. I know that now.”

Chadwick was quiet for a moment before saying, “So you don't love him anymore?”

I let out a sigh. “I'm not sure I ever did. After Roger left, I began to be honest with myself. We met shortly after I graduated college. I had majored in journalism and was working for a small newspaper as a reporter covering various events in the area. Roger worked for a local television station. They were having a fund-raiser and I was assigned to cover it.”

I took a sip of cognac and thought back to those years.

“I found myself flirting with him, he seemed to be flirting back, and before I left the event, he had asked me out on a date.”

“And I take it that date led to marriage?”

I laughed. “I guess you could say that. Eight years later.”

“You dated for eight years? That's a long time.”

“Exactly. By then I was pushing thirty. I was ready to settle down, start a family, and be a wife.”

“But Roger wasn't?”

“Looking back now, no, I don't think he was. And in all honesty, what followed was probably my own fault. I gave him an ultimatum. I told him either we took the next step or we were finished.”

Chadwick took a sip of cognac and nodded. “And so . . . you got married.”

“Yup, and Haley was born within a year. The first few years were okay. He worked a lot at the TV station; I was the stereotypical wife and mother. And actually, I loved it. But the older Haley got, the more I found I wanted more of my husband's company and attention. He was never a romantic sort of guy, but . . . I was hoping that might change over time.”

“And it didn't?”

“No. Not for him anyway.” I paused for a moment. “Roger left me for somebody else.”

I felt his arm pull me a bit closer. “I'm sorry,” he said quietly. “It makes no sense that he would leave
you
for another woman.”

“He didn't,” I blurted out. “Roger left me for a man. He's gay.” I squeezed my eyes tight to prevent the tears from sliding down my face. I couldn't believe I'd just said that. Nobody except Petra knew this. I'd allowed everybody to think he'd left me for another woman. And I'd taken the pain, the rejection, the betrayal, and the hurt deep inside me and let it fester there for almost two years.

“Come on,” Chadwick said, standing up and taking my hand. “Let's go for a drive.”