The Sweetgum Ladies Knit for Love (19 page)

Before she could complete the thought, he unfolded his long-limbed body from the car and leaned down to deliver his parting salvo. “Good night, Maria.” The words were coldly formal.

“Good night.” She might be on the wrong side of thirty, but she sounded like a breathless teenager.

He turned and strode away, and she sat for a moment, watching him, until she realized with a start that he would know she was watching him. She reached for the key and turned the ignition. With hands trembling far too much for her liking, she set the car in motion and drove away.

She would not, could not, absolutely refused to be attracted
to James Delevan. Thank heavens he would be gone from Sweetgum again soon, although no doubt he’d be back from time to time as the lakefront development moved forward.

She drove home in the darkness, acutely aware of how alone she was and deeply troubled by how much it bothered her.

On the second Monday in November, Merry pulled her mini-van into a parking space at the back of the church.

“Here we are, Hunter,” she said to the baby strapped into his seat in the rear. She kept her voice cheery, but her heart was as heavy as Hunter’s overstuffed diaper bag. She’d been able to postpone this day for a few weeks, but now the time had come. Merry climbed out of the van and opened the rear door. Hunter smiled up at her and waved his fists in the air before putting one in his mouth to chew on.

“That tooth will be through soon,” she assured her son, knowing that her tone would soothe him even if he didn’t understand a word of what she said. She’d given him some baby pain reliever before they’d left the house because she didn’t want his first day at child care to be associated with teething discomfort.

“Merry!” a voice called. She unbuckled Hunter and pulled
him out of his seat before turning to see who it was. Thankfully, the woman coming toward her was friend and not foe. Merry wondered, though, what Eugenie was doing at the church at this hour of the morning.

“Eugenie. How are you?”

“Very well, thank you. Is this Hunters first day?” The other woman shot Merry an unexpected smile of understanding.

“I think he’s excited. Or he will be. I’m the one who’s traumatized.”

Eugenie nodded. “He’ll be fine. And you will be too. Just give it time.”

Merry blinked back tears. “Thanks. I knew it would be difficult, but—”

“You’d rather be boiled in oil?”

“Yes.” Merry had to laugh a little at Eugenie’s words.

“I’m sure your reluctance is normal. Keep that in mind.”

Eugenie’s support meant the world to Merry. The two women walked into the church together through the preschool entrance. At this early hour, all of the children and parents were the full-day ones. Although Merry recognized a lot of them, it wasn’t her usual crowd.

“I’m surprised to see you at the church this early,” Merry said.

“A meeting of the altar flower committee.”

Merry made a sympathetic noise. “Roped you into that, too, did they?” She’d been surprised by how quickly Eugenie had gotten
involved in so many church activities. It was the last thing Merry would have expected of the reserved librarian.

“Yes, well…” Eugenie shrugged. “I want to support Paul.”

Merry opened her mouth to offer the older woman some advice, but just as quickly shut it again. Right now she was the last person in the world who needed to be giving out advice to people about how to manage their lives.

“I hope it goes well.” Merry nodded toward the corridor that led off to the right. “We’re headed this way.”

“I’m sure Hunter will be fine,” Eugenie repeated before lifting a hand in farewell and continuing on her way.

Merry knew the way to the Mother’s Day Out baby room well enough since the space doubled as the church nursery on Sunday mornings. Sandra, the lead teacher, stood in the doorway watching for them.

“I’ve been waiting for this little man.”

Since Sandra also worked for the church as a nursery attendant on Sunday mornings, she was well known to both Merry and Hunter. That familiarity had been the saving grace in the situation. No spending the day wondering about the person caring for her baby.

“Here we are.” Merry fought to keep the tremor out of her voice.

“We’ve got everything ready for him.” Sandra led the way into the room. “Here’s his cubby.” She pointed to a row of cubed shelving on the wall. “And this will be his crib.” She gestured
toward the one closest to the window. At least Hunter would have a view.

“Great,” Merry answered, wishing she could mean it. The room was bright, cheery, and clean, with every toy Hunter could possibly need on the low shelves. Why didn’t that make her feel any better?

“We take a walk in the stroller each morning,” Sandra said. “And we have time on the infant playground twice a day, weather permitting.”

Merry thought of the cute double-decker strollers that allowed the caregivers to push four children at a time and the shaded play area designed especially for the littlest students. Clearly Hunter was going to be a busy boy. And most likely a perfectly happy one. The knowledge did nothing to alleviate the knot in her stomach.

“Why don’t I take him,” Sandra suggested as she reached for Hunter, “and you can put his things in the cubby?”

Merry recognized Sandra’s suggestion for the distraction ploy it was, but she agreed to it anyway. She let the other woman take Hunter from her arms and then turned away to hide the expression on her face. She busied herself stowing Hunter’s belongings.

A few moments later, she had regained her composure and could turn back to the room. Her son sat happily on a large mat on the floor, Sandra at his side. Hunter picked up a plastic ring and flung it happily into the air.

“Bye, honey.” Merry knelt down to kiss the top of his head. “Mommy’s got to go to work.”

Hunter smiled at her and blew some spit bubbles, then turned his attention back to Sandra, who had retrieved the ring so he could throw it again.

“Have a good day,” Sandra said from her position on the floor. “Hunter will be fine.”

Why did everyone keep saying that?

Because it’s true
, a voice in Merry’s head said, and for the first time she felt like maybe day care wouldn’t be the nightmare she’d feared.

“All right. I’m off.” She wiggled her fingers at Hunter, stood, and moved toward the door. She made herself walk through it, thinking that the first day hadn’t been as bad as she’d feared.

At least not until she was three steps down the hallway and she heard her baby burst into tears.

Don’t go back. Don’t go back.
If she did, she might never be able to walk away again.

Please, God. Give me the strength to do this.
She sent up the silent, heartfelt prayer. And somehow, with help from a power greater than her own, her feet kept moving, all the way to the car. Only then did she let go and let the tears wash down her cheeks.

Esther braved the crisp November morning to sit on the back veranda and drink her coffee. It was a ritual she’d followed for years, as sacred in some ways as church, and since Frank’s death she’d found herself clinging to the familiar more and more, even
as she knew it to be slipping away. After hours of meetings and sifting through financial statements and visits from real estate agents and appraisers, she had submitted to the inevitable.

Although November was the worst time possible to enter the real estate market, the For Sale sign would go up in the yard today. Soon her home would belong to someone else. She gripped her coffee cup more tightly. No point in giving in to the grief that squeezed her heart. Things were going to change. They had to change. Franks death had taken that choice out of her hands.

The dog, which her grandson had named Ranger, had come outside with her and disappeared into the backyard. She glanced at her watch. It had been ten minutes since she’d seen or heard him. The mutt had fully recovered from his injuries and was now eating her out of house and home, not to mention still sleeping on the pillow next to her. If she were honest, Esther had done little to discipline the dog. It was easier to give in to his demands—feed him the extra treats, let him gnaw on her Cole Haan sandals. Residual guilt and the miasma of despair had done their damage on her once indomitable will. Now even a stray mutt could get the better of her.

Wearily, Esther stood and went in search of the wayward animal—and found him around the corner of the house, digging up one of her prize rosebushes.

“Ranger!” She raced forward, ignoring the hot coffee that sloshed over her hand. “Get out of there.” Her robe flapped behind her, her progress slowed by her slip-on house shoes.

Ranger ignored her and kept his nose in the hole, the dirt flying up behind him in an arc. When Esther reached him, she leaned down to grab his collar. He turned and growled at her, deep in his throat. She snatched her hand back.

“Stop it.” She glanced around and spied the garden hose coiled on its rack on the side of the house. She reached over, yanked off a length of the hose, and turned on the spigot. Spray erupted, and she turned it on him.

The dog leaped into the air with a yowl. He landed with a thump and then cowered, his head buried between his front paws.

“That’s it. I’ve had it.” Her pulse pounded in her ears.

She was fond of the dog—despite her best intentions, she’d let herself get attached. She could put up with him scratching his private parts and begging for food, and she could even deal with him relieving himself in the upstairs hallway. But her roses were her passion. This time, he’d gone too far.

Esther grabbed Ranger by the collar and dragged him back to the house. He whimpered and cast longing looks toward the half-mutilated rosebush. She shoved him inside the back door and shut it firmly behind them.

Since she had no idea where else to turn, Esther picked up the phone and made another appointment with Dr. Everton. Clearly it was time for some professional help, and the elderly vet would know what to do.

Thirty minutes later, she was showered, dressed, and headed out the door. The fact that she’d hit Ranger with her car had
done nothing to dim his enjoyment of hopping in the passenger seat and going for a spin. Esther rolled down the window so he could hang his head out. More than one bemused resident of Sweetgum stopped and swiveled to watch them go by, but Esther found she didn’t care about their curious stares. Ranger was having fun, and even though she was put out with him over the rosebushes, she shared his pleasure.

Their mutual enjoyment didn’t last long, however. They arrived at their destination, and Esther had to square her shoulders and prepare to face facts. Ranger was out of control, and she needed help to regain the upper hand.

The animal hospital occupied an old bungalow on Spring Street, a block or so north of the church. The former living room served as a reception area, with the bedrooms converted to treatment areas and the kitchen kept for the staff to use as a break room and general work area. Old Dr. Everton had let the place go in the last few years, so peeling paint and chipped linoleum were the order of the day.