The Aloha Quilt (3 page)

Bonnie inhaled deeply and sat up. “Then we’ll be sure that
we’re sure. Beyond a reasonable doubt. That’s the appropriate standard, right? Let’s
hire the detective for… a month. If the detective can’t turn up anything against Craig
within that time, I’ll assume there isn’t anything to turn up.”

Darren agreed to take care of the arrangements, so after promising to inform him if
she discovered anything on her own, Bonnie hung up and stared into space, sick at
heart. Despite everything, she would not have thought Craig willing to drag things
out and bicker over minutia, all for the sake of money. And now she found herself
in the unimaginable position of hoping he had committed adultery and praying he had
not.

Could he really have started up another affair after she spoiled his first?

Had it indeed been his first?

The thought of what she might find if she searched the shadowed corners of Craig’s
life frayed her every nerve, and yet, if he had cheated on her, she needed to know.
She had her own health to consider. And if proof of his infidelity was what she needed
to extricate herself from their failed marriage, she would be a fool not to look for
it.

It was possible, she told herself with a faint glimmer of hope, that the detective
would find nothing to implicate him.

Bonnie showered and dressed, preparing herself for a day that was already off to a
bad start. Tucking her cell phone into her sweater pocket, she went downstairs to
the library on the second floor, where Sarah and Sylvia conducted the official business
of Elm Creek Quilts. The double doors opened into a room spanning the entire width
of the south wing. Autumn sunshine spilled in through tall diamond-paned windows on
the east wall, casting long rectangles of light on the rugs and hardwood floors. Comfortable
chairs and sofas formed a square in the center of the room. Oak bookcases lined the
walls, their
shelves bowing slightly from the weight of leather-bound volumes and framed sepia-toned
photographs of Sylvia’s ancestors.

Fresh logs had been stacked in the stone fireplace on the south wall, with two armchairs
drawn up to the hearth as if in anticipation of a crackling blaze when the evening
grew cool. To the left of the mantel hung a scrap Castle Wall quilt, a memorial to
Sylvia’s first husband; to the right hung seven sections of nine composing the Winding
Ways quilt Sylvia had made for her friends. She had chosen fabrics that represented
each of her friends’ unique qualities, and the mosaic of overlapping circles and intertwining
curves, the careful balance of dark and light hues, the unexpected harmony of the
disparate fabrics and colors evoked the sense of many winding paths meeting, intersecting,
parting, creating the illusion that the separate sections formed a single quilt.

Two missing sections belonging to absent Elm Creek Quilters broke the continuity of
the circles, and when Bonnie left for Hawaii, she would take her section with her
too. When she returned to Elm Creek Manor, she would restore her portion of the quilt
to its proper place. The empty spaces would remind those left behind that their absent
friends would return one day and the circle of quilters would be made whole. As Sylvia
often said, “Once an Elm Creek Quilter, always an Elm Creek Quilter.” Bonnie hoped
her friends would remember that no matter how far they traveled. She knew she always
would, now that it would soon be her turn to set off on a journey.

Sarah sat at the large oak desk typing on the computer, but she looked up when Bonnie
entered. “Did you reach your lawyer? Everything okay?”

“As far from okay as it could possibly be,” said Bonnie. “May I borrow your computer?
I need to go online and see if Craig’s cheating on me.”

Sarah’s eyebrows rose. “Oh. Okay. Just let me save this.” A few keystrokes later,
Sarah closed her document, opened the web browser, hauled herself out of the leather
armchair, and offered it to Bonnie. “How are you planning to catch him, exactly?”

“Last time I caught him by accidentally checking his email. I thought I’d see what
happens when I check it on purpose.”

“If he hasn’t changed his password.”

Bonnie hadn’t considered that, but Craig surely would have known better than to leave
his account unprotected and risk discovery the same way twice. Sure enough, when she
tried to log on to the Waterford College system, his old password failed.

“Try some variations,” Sarah suggested, but after a dozen such attempts, Bonnie realized
it was futile. It was always so easy on television, where a clever computer expert
could deftly fuse together the name of an enemy’s childhood pet and his favorite candy
bar and instantly gain access to every detail of his personal life.

“He’s not going to make this easy for me,” she said, thinking aloud.

“Of course not,” said Sarah. “This is Craig we’re talking about.”

True enough, but Bonnie wouldn’t allow Craig and his ridiculous stalling tactics to
ruin her plans. She would have to wait and give the detective time to do his work,
but she wouldn’t wait at Elm Creek Manor. She intended to be relaxing on a white,
sandy beach on Maui when Darren called with the detective’s report—and the news that
would be both welcome and dreadful, whatever it was.

Chapter Two
 

On a cold, drizzly morning, Bonnie stood outside the terminal entrance shivering in
her thin jacket as Matt unloaded her suitcase from the Elm Creek Quilts minivan and
set it on the curb. “You sure you’re okay?” he asked, studying her. “I can stick around
until you’re through security.”

“I’m fine,” she assured him, adjusting the strap of her carry-on over her shoulder.
She was lying, but she figured Matt knew that. Sarah had surely told her husband about
Craig’s latest antics. How could anyone in Bonnie’s situation claim to be fine?

“Well, have a good flight. Take care of yourself.” The big man, his back and shoulders
hard and muscled from years of laboring outdoors, nearly squeezed the breath out of
her with a heartfelt bear hug. Bonnie had to laugh, though tears sprang to her eyes.
Matt was so kind, and Sarah, so lucky. This was a man a wife could trust. She hoped
Sarah would never take that for granted, not one single day.

Bonnie passed through check-in and security in the same fog of exhaustion and latent
anger she had sunk into since Darren’s call. Her flight was called; she boarded the
plane. She gazed out the window throughout the forty-minute flight
to Philadelphia, but she dozed off on the second leg of her journey, waking with a
start when the plane touched down in Phoenix. As she walked to her gate, she found
herself hungry for the first time in days, so she bought a sandwich and a large bottle
of water and ate as she waited for her row number to be called. On board the 737,
the female flight attendants wore flower
leis
over their uniforms, and one had tucked a pink hibiscus behind her left ear. “Aloha,”
she greeted Bonnie pleasantly as she stepped onto the jet. “Welcome aboard.”

“Aloha,” Bonnie replied automatically, without putting any real feeling into the word.
She knew from her travel guides that “Aloha” could mean
hello, goodbye,
or
I love you.
She needed no guide to remind her that only the first two meanings would ever apply
to her.

She found her seat four rows from the back of the plane in a section that appeared
to have been reserved for families traveling with small children, although that surely
must have been a coincidence. But Bonnie had come prepared with earplugs and a night
mask, and still making up for several nights of insomnia, she fell asleep before takeoff.

She woke to a touch on her arm and shifted groggily in her seat. “Sorry,” said the
passenger beside her, a large woman with a huge knot of graying brown hair. She was
knitting busily, as if she hoped to finish her project before touchdown. “Didn’t mean
to bump you. Almost dropped a stitch when we hit that turbulence.”

“That’s all right.” Bonnie checked her watch and discovered that she had slept five
hours straight.

“Wish I could sleep as soundly as you,” the woman remarked in a drawl that made Bonnie
think of Texas. “I can’t keep my eyes shut more than ten minutes on a plane. What’s
your secret? Drugs?”

“Months of little sleep thanks to a miserable soon-to-be ex-husband.”

“Oh, I’ve had a few of those.” The woman twisted her needles deftly and added a new
color to the garment she was knitting. It appeared to be a brown-and-orange striped
sweater for a very small person with arms and legs in odd places. “For my dachshund,”
she explained, noting Bonnie’s scrutiny. “When does your soon-to-be ex become your
official ex?”

“Not soon enough.”

“I hear you. You know, it’s never too soon to start lining up a few new fellas, one
to marry and a couple others to fall back on.”

“Not me,” Bonnie declared. “I’m done with all that. I couldn’t ever go through this
heartbreak again.”

“Why, sugar, if you pick the right man you won’t need to go through this again. You’ll
pick one to keep forever.”

“That’s what I thought I did the first time.”

The woman scrutinized her. “What did you know way back then? You were just a girl.”

In spite of herself, Bonnie smiled. “How do you know?”

“You have the look of someone who’s been unhappily married a very long time.”

“It wasn’t always unhappy.”

“Then never say never to new love.” The woman returned her full attention to her knitting,
though her fingers had never stopped flicking yarn over needles even when her eyes
were on Bonnie. “The islands are the most romantic place on earth. You might meet
someone special.”

“I’m coming to work and to relax, not to hunt down a new man.”

“Well, hunting a man is work, and enjoying the ones you catch can be relaxing.”

Bonnie laughed.

“A genuine laugh,” the woman cried, triumphant. “I knew you had it in you, despite
your long face.”

For the rest of the flight they chatted intermittently. Bonnie leafed through the
in-flight magazine and gazed out the window. At last the plane began to descend, and
Bonnie eagerly awaited her first glimpse of Hawaii.

First she saw only the vast expanse of turquoise ocean, then steep, rugged mountains
of emerald green. Awestruck, she drew in a breath and craned her neck to take in as
much of the view as the small window allowed.

Beside her, the woman chuckled as she packed up her knitting. “First time?”

“Is it that obvious?” Bonnie replied, smiling. “The view is simply breathtaking. It’s
so much more beautiful than any photograph.”

“Wait ’til you see it up close and personal. Take a helicopter tour if you have the
stomach for it.” Then the woman frowned slightly. “Someone meeting you here, hon?
Tour group, maybe? It’s not good to be alone with a broken heart, what with all the
beautiful scenery and the honeymooners making a single gal feel like the only cup
without a saucer.”

Bonnie assured her that an old friend was waiting for her in the terminal, most likely
scanning the monitors and coming as close to their arrival gate as possible without
violating any TSA regulations. In fact, unless Claire had mellowed with age, she was
probably scheming to persuade the security personnel to let her through even though
she wasn’t a ticketed passenger. It wouldn’t be the first time Claire decided the
rules didn’t apply to her, but Bonnie hoped that today of all days, Claire would act
sensibly. An arrest would ruin their reunion.

They touched down at Kahului Airport on the northern
shore of Maui, and as Bonnie was gathering her things and waiting for the seat belt
sign to turn off so she could leap from her seat, it occurred to her that she had
not felt so enthusiastic for anything in ages.

Already Hawaii was working its magic upon her.

She glimpsed Claire just beyond the security gate, fiddling with her purse strap,
eyeing the TSA agents as if contemplating whether they would bother pursuing a harmless
middle-aged woman just because she ignored the huge
DO NOT ENTER
signs and bypassed security to meet a dear friend. Claire probably could have outrun
them if they did. Though she was Bonnie’s age, fifty-six, she could easily pass for
ten years younger. Petite and slender, with a girlish, unlined face and wheat-brown
hair that brushed her shoulders, she had obviously kept up with the long-distance
running that she had enjoyed as the darling of the Penn State cross-country team.
Bonnie broke into a grin as she approached her old friend, marveling at how little
the years had changed her. If it was something in the Hawaiian air, Bonnie hoped it
would have a rejuvenating effect on her, too.

At that moment Claire caught sight of her and her green eyes lit up with delight.
“Bonnie,” she cried, waving her arm in the air. “Over here!” Claire prudently waited
for Bonnie to leave the secure area before flinging her arms around her. “It’s so
good to see you! You look fantastic—exactly the same as you did the day after graduation,
when we moved out of our apartment on Atherton Street.”