The Fortune Quilt (28 page)

I stay because Brandy asked me to stay, but I stare at my feet and let Brandy’s words fade out under a blanket of my own thoughts. The reading takes about thirty minutes, and when it’s over, the three of us break out a bottle of wine and toast the upcoming new year.

***

Allegra, Janesse and Brandy are sitting on my couch. I’m in the orange easy chair. The packing party lasted all of two hours. I really didn’t have that much stuff. On the coffee table before us are two items:
 
She Might Be Crying
, and Quasitoado.

“I really said, ‘Return the frog’?” Brandy asks. “Maybe I didn’t mean this frog. Besides, isn’t this technically a toad?”

“Technically, it’s ceramic,” I say. “And I’ve listened to the tape. You said it. ‘Accept the book with the amber spine. Return the frog.’”

Janesse sighs. “Then you need to return the frog.”

Allegra hits Janesse. “No, she doesn’t. It was a stupid reading. It doesn’t mean anything.” She leans forward and smiles at Brandy. “No offense, Bran.”

“None taken.” Brandy looks at me and sighs. “Well, what do you want to do?”

I stare at the coffee table. “I want to wrap them both up and bring them with me. I want to find Will and tell him that I want to make this work. I want to do a lot of things, but if it’s not the right thing…” I flash back to Seth at Ella’s wedding. “I don’t want to put him through that.”

Allegra sighs. “At least keep the painting. You paid for it. It’s yours. If you don’t keep that, it’ll hurt his feelings.”

I nod, still staring at the painting. “Yeah. Okay.”

Out of the corner of my vision, I see Brandy nudge Janesse, who grabs the painting in one hand and Allegra’s arm in the other.

“We’ll go wrap it up for you at Brandy’s and get it in your car.”

I sit back, wait for them to leave, and then lock eyes on Brandy. “Okay. What’s up?”

Brandy leans forward. “I’m really proud of you.”

I can’t stop myself from snorting in derision. “Yeah. I’m a real prize.”

“You are. Look at you. I’m amazed by you, by your faith.”

My head jerks up at this. “My what?”

“When I first met you, I didn’t think you were that kind of girl. I thought you were one of those people who forced life to be what they thought they wanted, instead of embracing what it was meant to be.”

“Hmm,” I say. “That’s supposed to be a compliment, right? Supposed to make me feel better?”

She smiles. “It takes a tremendous amount of courage to do what you know is right, even when it’s not what you want. Even when you can rationally explain why you shouldn’t. And, you know, sometimes you get what you really want by doing the very thing you don’t want to do.”

I rub my eyes. “Will it lower your opinion of me at all if I tell you I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about?”

“Not in the least.” She kneels in front of the frog. “Goodbye, Quasitoado.” She stands up and brushes her knees off. “I’ll wait for you at the house. You come in and say goodbye before you leave, okay?”

I nod, still staring at the frog as she leaves.

“So, this is about faith, is it?” I ask Quasitoado. “So, what? If I give you back to Will, you’ll bring him back to me? Do you think you can do that?”

Quasitoado stares back at me, his mutantish, tiny face giving me no answers. I close my eyes and sit back in the chair, letting the silence wash over me. I’m so tired that my mind goes instantly blank, and I’m grateful for it.

And then, like an almost imperceptible breeze, I feel a surge of certainty pulse through me, and I open my eyes.

I know what to do. I grab Quasitoado and hold him in my arms, heading out of the cabin. I start down the path, hitching a left at Will’s cabin. I set Quasi down on the little outdoor table on his porch, and I give the ugly ceramic frog a quick kiss on the nose.

I step back, swipe my face, and turn my back, knowing I’ve done the right thing despite the fact that I hate every minute of it.

I now know why I never had any faith before. It’s because faith sucks.

My father’s annual New Year’s Eve party is as crazy this year as it always is. The house is filled wall-to-wall with co-workers from his architecture firm, old friends we only see at New Year’s, and, of course, our screwed-up but lovable little family. After much hesitation, I wear the brown chiffon dress to the party, and I get hit on by the guy who does Dad’s payroll and the guy who delivers the champagne. They’re both cute, and I’m flattered, but I’m not interested.

They’re not Will.

It’s been almost two weeks since I left Bilby, and Will still hasn’t called. Part of me was hoping that the purpose of leaving Quasitoado behind was so that Will would realize how much I meant to him and chase me to Tucson. But that didn’t happen. I’ve given myself until New Year’s Eve to finally accept that it’s over, and midnight is mere hours away, so it’s time to start accepting.

We’re just not meant to be.

The party is fun, but as it turns out I’m in no mood for a fun party. At nine-thirty, I make my escape to the backyard, where it’s cold and quiet and matching my mood.

I sit in one of the cold metal chairs next to the porch table and stare up at the stars. I wonder what Will’s doing right now, and internally resolve that I will stop thinking about Will in the new year. I give myself two and a half more hours to indulge myself, and then, that’s it.

I’m going cold turkey.

“Care for some company?”

I turn and see Mary standing behind me, holding two fleece throw blankets in her arms. She wraps one over my shoulders and puts the other over her own, then sits down across from me, staring up at the stars. We sit in silence for a long while before she starts talking.

“When you were a little girl, about six years old or so,” she says, “you came into our room, really early in the morning. You tapped me on the shoulder and when I asked you what you wanted, you just put your finger to your lips and said ‘Shhhh.’ Then you took my hand and led me outside, to this very spot.” She looks at me and smiles. “It was snowing. It was amazing. It was like magic, because it was April. Right after Easter. I mean, you know it rarely ever snows here, but in April? It was crazy. We just stood out here together for a long time, catching the snow on our tongues. You looked so happy.” She lets out a small laugh. “Wow. I don’t know why I just remembered that. I haven’t thought about that day in ages.”

I’m still staring at the sky when I hear her sniffle, and when I look at her, there are tears on her face. She swipes at them hastily.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I’ve obviously had too much champagne.” She straightens up in her seat, swipes at her face one last time, and smiles at me. “I’m sorry.”

I look away. “Yeah. Me, too.”

There’s a long moment of silence, and then she finally speaks. “You have nothing to be sorry about.”

“That’s debatable,” I say, still not looking at her. “No matter what you did, the fact is, you came back to try and make it right. And that takes a lot of courage. I have to give you credit for that. I don’t know if I would have had that kind of courage.”

“Maybe,” she says, leaning back in her chair and staring up at the sky. “But I don’t know if that counts for much with your sisters. At least you came out and told me how you felt. I can deal with that. Ella hides it all under this veneer of sunshine, and Five… Five’s just all over the place. She’s fine one minute and the next, I don’t know what I’m dealing with.”

“Well,” I say, “the secret with Ella is to just get in her face and don’t let her pretend everything’s fine. She’ll resist for a while, but eventually she’ll blow up all over you and then you can start working it out. As for Five…” I shake my head. “She’s seventeen. My vote is, it’d be hell right now even if you’d been here all along. Just keep your liquor cabinet stocked and pray.”

She lifts her glass and we toast. I watch her as she stares up into the sky and I feel a flash of genuine affection. It’s not much more than a flash, nowhere near total forgiveness, but it’s a promising place to start.

“You know what I think we need?” I say finally. “A do-over.”

She lets out a small laugh. “A what-over?”

I open my mouth to explain when the back door creaks behind us and Five pokes her head out. “Carly, did you call a cab?”

“Um, no. I don’t think so. Why?”

She lets out a huff of frustrated air. “Oh, nothing. There’s a cab out front and the guy insists he was given this address and… whatever. I’ll just tell him to leave.”

“Okay,” I say, but then take in a sharp breath of air as I hear Brandy’s voice in my head.

Take the cab.

“Oh, my God,” I say, putting my hand over my mouth. My heart starts to race.

“Carly?” Mary says as I push up from my chair.

Return the frog. Accept the book with the amber spine.

Take the cab.

“Wait, Five!” I can’t believe I’m doing this. “It’s mine. The cab is mine. Can you grab my coat and my purse for me, please?”

“Um. Okay.” Five shrugs and disappears into the house. I turn to Mary.

“I’m sorry. I need to go. I think. I think I need to go.”

Mary stands up. “It’s not even midnight,” she says. “Where are you going?”

I smile. “I’m not sure. But I think… I think the cab is for me. Does that sound crazy?”

“You’re asking me about crazy?” she says.

I take the throw off my shoulders and give it back to her. “Can we continue this next week, maybe? Have lunch or something? We’ll talk.”

She nods. “Yeah. Sure. That’ll be nice.”

We exchange a brief smile and I rush toward the back door, where Five is waiting with my coat and purse.

“Where are you going?” she asks as she rushes behind me to the front door.

“I don’t know.” I laugh and give her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Tell everyone Happy New Year for me, okay?”

“Okay,” she says, eyeing my half-empty flute of champagne. “Can I have that?”

I hand it to her. “Don’t tell Dad I gave it to you.”

The cab is still waiting by the curb. I run toward it, shrugging into my coat as I go.

“Where are we going?” the cabbie sighs, obviously annoyed, when I hop into the back seat.

“I don’t know,” I say. “Didn’t they - I mean, I - give you a destination when I called?”

He shoots a look over his shoulder that shows me he is definitely not amused. But I need a sign, I need him to give me a sign that this cab is actually for me. I was hoping that sign would be him taking me straight to Bilby, although, that is kind of ridiculous. I mean, coincidence is only going to take me so far, right? I feel my heart start to race and I take a deep breath.

“How much for you to take me to Bilby?”

He looks at me like I’m nuts. Which, arguably…

“Bilby?” he says. “I’m not taking you to Bilby, lady. This cab is city limits only.”

I sit back, deflated. This isn’t the way this is supposed to go. I was supposed to hop in the cab, and he was supposed to have my answer. He was supposed to take me to Bilby.

He was supposed to take me to Will.

“What if I paid you extra?” I say. “Do you take credit cards?”

He reaches over and hits the button on his meter, printing out a receipt. “That’ll be four eighty-six.”

“For what?” I say. “You didn’t take me anywhere.”

“That’s the meter cost for making me sit here for nothing. Four dollars and eighty-six cents.”

He hands me the receipt, and I look at it. Four dollars and eighty-six cents. The exact amount Mr. Trimble always paid for his charcoals.

“It’s a sign,” I mumble.

“What?” he says.

“Oh, shut up. It could be a sign.” I dig into my purse and shove a twenty at him. “Keep the change.”

He thanks me perfunctorily and takes the twenty. I hop out of the cab, watch him drive off, and glance at the receipt one more time before hopping into my own car.

***

My car clock reads 11:38 when I arrive in front of Brandy’s house. Through the windows, I see James and Sebastian dancing. I see Janesse wearing a brilliant yellow dress and looking typically stunning. I watch for a while longer, catching flashes of Allegra’s pink hair, Brandy’s long ponytail, and Gladys’s and Mack’s matching holiday sweaters.

No Will. He can’t be on assignment, can he? On New Year’s Eve?

Maybe. I don’t know. And I won’t know until I get myself up out of this car and go find out. I step out of the car and stumble in my heels on the rock path that leads past Brandy’s house. After a few steps, I get my footing, although I’m pretty sure my ankles are going to hate me in the morning.

I hug my coat around me as I walk through the foliage to the clearing. The night is crisp and clear, with the moon and the stars casting everything in a blue glow. My heart jumps in my chest as I see the light coming from Will’s windows.

He’s home.