A Wild Goose Chase Christmas: Quilts of Love Series (7 page)

“I’m sorry,” her brother blurted out. “We haven’t met. I’m Brandon Fontaine. Izzy’s brother.”

“Max Logan.” He held out his hand, making Brandon shift his coat from one arm to the other in order to reciprocate. “This is my grandfather, Virgil. We were friends of Mrs. Randolph. And now, of Izzy.”

“I see.” Brandon pumped his hand, sizing him up. “Well, thanks for staying with my sister. But I’ve got it from here.”

“Good to hear.” Max moved to Virgil and shook him gently. “Gramps. It’s time to go.”

“Huh? What?” Virgil looked around, eyelids half-open. “I didn’t miss dinner, did I? It’s tapioca night.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll get you back in time for tapioca.” Max looked at Izzy. “Will I see you on Monday?”

She nodded. “Absolutely. Four o’clock at the museum.”

As the two men walked away, Izzy again took note of how Max cared for his grandfather. In the same way, he’d cared for her today, even though they barely knew each other. If his mother had set out to raise a gentleman, she’d certainly done a fine job of it.

“You have a date on Monday?” Brandon asked.

“It’s not a date. It’s a business meeting.”

“At a museum?”

“Yes.”

Brandon tilted his head, just a bit. “A meeting at a museum about something valuable? Sounds interesting.”

Izzy sighed. Why did her brother always see dollar signs before anything else? “I’ll tell you about it later. Can I go back and see Mom now?”

“Sure. She’s been asking for you.”

“She has?”

“Yeah, she’s already making a list of the things she needs you to get from her house.”

Oh goody.
They left the waiting room and headed to a bank of elevators. “Did the doctor say how long it will take her to heal?”

“About eight weeks, give or take.”

Brandon threw it out casually, like it was no time at all. But Izzy immediately did the math. Eight weeks. Two months.
If
Mom behaved herself, which was a very big
if
. Which meant Mom would be staying with her through Thanksgiving, Christmas, and into the new year.

Tidings of comfort and joy would be a lot harder to come by this holiday season.

7

I
t’s just me, Bogie.”

Izzy maneuvered past the dog and into the house, pushing the heavy door closed behind her with her foot. Bogie stopped barking but he pranced around her feet, his nose pointed at the fast-food bag dangling from her hand.

“This isn’t for you.”

The scolding sent him slinking into the corner. He lay down, nose on paws, but kept his eyes trained on her.

Depositing her armload of stuff on the table, Izzy let out a sigh. “What a day.” She kicked off her shoes and stretched out her poor, tired feet. As a rule, Izzy avoided heels. Even the sensible ones she’d chosen today threw her body out of whack if she wore them too long. And everything about today had gone on too long.

A few minutes later, dressed in her most comfortable pair of sweatpants and a baggy sweatshirt, Izzy curled up on the couch with her fast-food dinner. As she was about to take a bite of her burger, Bogie whimpered.

Izzy shook her head. How could that one little sound communicate so much? “OK. You can join me.” The dog shot up as
if on springs, scampered over, and jumped onto the couch. Izzy held up her palm, giving him the signal to sit and stay. “You know the rules, buddy. You have your side; I have mine.”

Bogie sat, head up, giving her his full attention. Either that or he was thinking of a way to abscond with her bag of fries.

Izzy took a bite of her burger. She chewed slowly, savoring not just the food but the silence around her. One of the things she loved most about this house was its sense of calm and peace. She used to think it came from Gran, but even after Gran moved into Vibrant Vistas the serene atmosphere remained. How long would it last once Janice Fontaine moved in?

Izzy swallowed and the once delicious mouthful hit the bottom of her stomach like a rock. She forced herself to finish half the burger and nibble on a few fries but her appetite had been mostly chased away by the thought of how her life was about to change.

She tossed a fry to Bogie, who seemed to catch, chew, and swallow it all in one motion. Then she crumpled the bag around the remaining food, took it in the kitchen, and tossed it in the trash. What would Mom say when she got here? She hadn’t been to the house since last Thanksgiving. Walking back to the living room, Izzy took in the curio cabinet of knickknacks, the pictures on the walls, and the furniture that had been in the family for generations. All of it would be a daily reminder to her mother that Gran had chosen to hand down the house to Izzy.

This was not a good situation.

Flopping down on the couch, Izzy looked at the dog. “Brace yourself. My mother is moving in with us for a few months.”

If they were living in a sitcom, Bogie would have jumped from the couch and dashed from the room. At the very least, he would have stuck his head under a cushion. But since it was
real life, he yawned and lay down, completely uninterested in anything she had to say now that the food had disappeared.

“I wish I could be so relaxed.”

What she really wished, more than anything, was that Gran was still with her. But Gran was gone, and she’d left a bunch of questions and cryptic gifts in her place.

Gifts
.

Izzy got to her feet, teetered for a moment, and then headed for the bedroom. There it was on her nightstand, the box Pastor Quaid had given her.

“What other surprises have you got for me, Gran?”

Sitting cross-legged on her mattress, Izzy undid the twine bow and lifted the top off the box. There was a note inside. She put the box on her pillow, unfolded the paper, and began to read.

My sweet Isabella,

If you’re reading this now, that means I’m gone.

Izzy couldn’t help but laugh. It was the same line she’d started the other note with. Gran must have stolen it from a movie or book in which a dying woman left gifts behind for her loved ones. Admonishing herself to be serious, she kept reading.

Very soon, you’ll be contacted by Virgil, a dear friend of mine. He has a very special gift for you. I trust Virgil implicitly, and you can too.

Obviously, Gran underestimated how seriously Virgil took his position as guardian of the quilt and expected Pastor Quaid to get to Izzy first.

Your mother and brother will want to see my will, but there isn’t one. I did that on purpose. Initially, this will cause contention, but my hope is that, in the long run, it will bring our family back together. But it can only happen if you are the peacemaker. Isabella,
you are stronger than you know, and God’s love abides in you. No matter how difficult things get, you are never alone.

You may wonder why I’m being so mysterious. Let me just say that some things are better learned than told. Some truths mean more when they are lived than explained. Live the truth, Isabella, and it will lead you to a treasure greater than anything you could imagine.

She signed it,
All my love, Gran
.

Izzy sniffed and wiped the tears from her cheeks with the cuff of her sweatshirt. Where were Max and his handkerchiefs when she needed them?

The clicking of toenails announced that Bogie was coming into the room. He stood at her feet, head cocked to one side, eyes gazing up at her. The four-poster bed was too high for him to jump onto by himself, so she reached down and scooped him up with her free hand.

“You’re a sweetie. Even if you only love me because I give you treats.” As she hugged him to her side, she set down the note and picked up the box from her pillow. Several layers of light pink tissue paper were carefully folded, covering something. She looked at Bogie. “I’m almost afraid to see what’s under there.”

The dog lifted his nose as if trying to see what she was holding, and kneaded her thigh with his paws.

“OK, OK. I’ll look.”

Carefully, as though the tissue might fall to pieces in her hands, she peeled back each sheet of paper until she revealed another bit of wrapping.

A piece of white seersucker with bold stripes of pink, yellow, and green was wrapped around something small and hard. Unfolding the fabric, she found it was cut in the shape of a triangle. She had barely noticed that it was the same shape as
the pieces of the Wild Goose Chase quilt when the actual gift fell from it and plopped in her lap.

“Oh my.”

It was Gran’s favorite necklace. She lifted it up by the delicate chain, sending the pendant of three interlocked rings—one of clear stones, one of red, and another of green—swaying and sparkling.

When she was about ten, Izzy had asked her grandmother if the stones in the rings were real. They had been in the kitchen, making cookies. Gran answered without looking up from the batter she was stirring. “They might be diamonds, rubies, and emeralds. Or they might just be colored glass. What difference does it make? I love it because it reminds me of your grandfather.” She’d rubbed the rings between her fingertips, and her eyes took on a far-off look. “Even though he’s gone, in a way, he’s always with me.”

There was no note to explain why Gran had given her the necklace, but she didn’t need one. Gran was always with her, and this was her way of making sure Izzy never forgot.

8

T
his hospital food is terrible. Why would they give a chicken breast to someone with her arm in a sling?”

It had been nonstop complaints from Janice since Izzy arrived at the hospital, but she was trying very hard to be empathetic. She tried to imagine how much pain her mother must be in and how frustrated she must be. Watching her jab at her food with her left hand drove the point home.

“Let me help you with that, Mom.”

Izzy took the fork, half expecting Janice to shoo her away, but she didn’t.

“Thank you,” she almost whispered.

“No problem.” Izzy picked up the plastic knife and began sawing at the tough piece of chicken on the tray. It likely tasted just as bad as it looked. Maybe some chit-chat would distract her mother from her inedible lunch. “I put your name on the prayer list at church today.”

Janice snorted. “Oh fine. Now everyone will know my business.”

“Not everyone. Just the people who pray the most. And they’ll keep it between themselves and God.”

“Sure they will.”

Izzy leaned forward, concentrating on cutting the chicken into bite-size pieces. Why did Mom care if anybody knew she’d fallen down and hurt herself? She didn’t even know those people. You’d think she’d be grateful that perfect strangers were willing to pray for her recovery.

“How did you get that?”

If the plastic knife were as sharp as Janice’s tone, Izzy could have cut through that rubbery chicken like butter. Her eyes darted to her mother. “How did I get what?”

“Your grandmother’s necklace.”

Izzy’s hand moved to her neck, fingers closing around the three rings. When she got ready for church that morning, she’d proudly put the necklace on. But she forgot she’d be going straight from church to the hospital. Izzy didn’t want her mother to see it before she could tell her, so somewhere between the parking lot and the hospital entrance she’d tucked it underneath the scoop neck of her sweater. It must have slipped out while she tackled the chicken. “Gran gave it to me.”

Janice’s lips pressed into a thin line, the skin around them growing white.

Izzy controlled the urge to sigh. She’d messed up. She should have told her mother about the gift right away. But how would that have gone?
Hi, Mom. How are you feeling? Check out the awesome necklace that Gran probably should have left to you but she gave to me instead.
Not very tactful, but most likely wouldn’t have garnered a much stronger reaction.

“Mom, I—”

The opening notes of Beethoven’s Fifth sang out as Janice’s cell phone vibrated on the stand beside the bed.

“Before you scold me, don’t,” Janice said. “I asked the nurse and made sure it was OK to have my phone on in here.”

Izzy put her hands up. “I wasn’t going to say anything.” She picked up the phone and looked at the caller ID. “It’s Vibrant Vistas.”

Janice groaned. “I don’t have the strength to deal with them right now.” Without lifting her head from the pillow, she rolled it to the side to look at Izzy. “Would you talk to them?”

“Sure.” She’d do just about anything if it meant they could avoid talking about Gran’s latest gift. Izzy jabbed the button on the phone and held it against her ear. “Hello?”

“Janice Fontaine?” The voice on the other end was strained.

“No, this is her daughter, Isabella.”

“Oh, Izzy!” Like flipping a light switch, the woman’s tone became bright and upbeat. “It’s Laura, from Vibrant Vistas.”

“Hi, Laura.” After frequent visits to see Gran, Izzy was on a first-name basis with most of the folk who worked there. “My mom isn’t available right now. Is there something I can help you with?”

“Well, yes. I hate to bring this up, but … we need to clear out your grandmother’s room.”

Izzy looked at her mother, who had suddenly become fascinated by the tiny pieces of meat on her lunch tray. “I thought that was taken care of.”

“Not yet.” Laura paused, then pushed forward, speaking so fast that all her words ran together. “I’m sorry. It’s probably the last thing you want to think about right now, but we need the space.”

“There’s no need to be sorry. I’ll be there in a few hours.”

With Laura happily taken care of, Izzy disconnected the call and set the phone back on the bedside stand. “Mother?”

“Hmm?” She didn’t look up from her tray.

“I thought you got everything out of Gran’s room.”

Janice dropped her fork on the plate and fell back against the mattress, eyes closed. “I tried. But every time I thought about it, it overwhelmed me. I just couldn’t bring myself to go there.”

Izzy clenched her jaw, determined not to lose her cool. If Mom had just let her take care of it in the first place, like she was going to, it would already be done. But Janice had been adamant that she wanted to be the one to collect her mother’s things.