A Good Yarn

“We have to go,” Margaret said in a low voice.



He released me, and I thanked him wordlessly, then rushed out of the store.



The staff at Swedish was wonderful, although it took what seemed like hours before we were able to talk to anyone. I berated myself over and over for not being more available to my mother. She was never demanding of my time and grateful for whatever I gave her. I did visit two or three times a week, but clearly that wasn’t enough.



Margaret saw her as often as she could, too. But Mom needed more than scattered visits from her two daughters. I was nearly choking on guilt and so, I suspected, was my sister.



Margaret hated being inside a hospital. It was because of the smell, she said, which immediately made her feel anxious. I’d spent practically my entire youth in one and had grown so accustomed to it that I no longer noticed. Margaret had a firm grip on my arm, and for once she was relying on me.



We were asked to wait in a sitting room until the doctor could update us on Mom’s condition. The chairs were comfortable, and a television was on, playing a soap opera—ironically it was General Hospital. I didn’t pay attention, didn’t hear a single word. My mind whirled with guilt and fear and recriminations. I was certain I’d failed my mother and that everything was somehow my fault.



A physician appeared and, as if our movements were synchronized, Margaret and I stood simultaneously.



The doctor came straight to the point. “Your mother is in serious condition. She’s in a diabetic coma.”



This was a shock to both of us.



“We’ve got her stabilized and I expect her insulin levels to even out, but this is a disease that is not to be taken lightly.”



“No one in the family is diabetic,” Margaret said. “We had no idea Mom could come down with this.”



“She lives alone?”



We both nodded.



Again the physician was straightforward. “Well, I’d suggest you investigate placing her in assisted living.”



He wanted us to take our mother out of the only home she’d known for the last fifty years. I didn’t know if I could do that—but I realized we had no choice.



CHAPTER 30



ELISE BEAUMONT



The house was quiet when the light tap sounded at Elise’s bedroom door. She was waiting for Maverick. She was so in love with this man that she’d lost all sense of propriety. She knew what he was, knew it to the very depths of her heart, but now—just like all those years ago—it didn’t seem to matter.



The knock came, and she opened her door to let him in. He pulled her into his arms and they kissed. They’d made love just once—the night after their excursion into the mountains—and when it was over, they’d both cried, holding each other in the aftermath of passion. Their first sexual reunion had been a combination of excitement, embarrassment, fear and anticipation. They’d felt awkward with each other, but they’d also experienced tenderness and joy. They’d spent most nights together since then, simply holding each other close. After sleeping alone all these years, Elise hadn’t thought it possible to bring a man to her bed, a single bed at that. Anyone seeing them cramped against the wall would’ve found the sight comical, she was sure. She fell asleep in his embrace and then in the early hours of the morning, Maverick slipped back into the boys’ room.



No one was the wiser. At least, not as far as she knew. She suspected David and Aurora had guessed, but neither mentioned it. Elise pretended her daughter was oblivious to the late-night shuffle between Maverick’s room and hers.



“This is silly, you know,” Maverick murmured, pulling back the sheet so they could get into bed together. He let her go first and then followed.



“What’s silly, our being together?” He was right, but she found it alarming that he’d admit it.



“Our being together is the only thing right about this situation,” Maverick insisted in a husky whisper. “What’s wrong is sneaking around in the middle of the night. Good grief, Elise, I’m sixty-six years old. The last time I did this, I was a teenager.”



“Stop!” she said, giggling.



“Don’t tell me you’re accustomed to this.”



“Of course I’m not!”



“Then let me make an honest woman of you.”



Elise slid under the sheets until she was down far enough to rest her head against Maverick’s shoulder. “Are you suggesting we…get married? Again?” While it might sound appealing, she wasn’t convinced that was really the solution.



“Do you want to live in sin?”



“I…I don’t know.” She’d had her freedom for the past thirty years. “Can I think about it?”



“Yes.” He rubbed his leg against hers. “I love you, Elise. I’ve always loved you.”



She believed Maverick did love her, but that didn’t mean she could trust him. If she was a gambling woman, she would’ve bet that, given the opportunity, he’d be back at the gaming tables.



Maverick kissed the top of her head. “I talked to the real estate agent about the apartment complex this afternoon,” he whispered.



He’d left the house after lunch and been gone almost four hours. He never told her where he went, but this wasn’t the first time he’d mysteriously disappeared. Elise had her suspicions, but didn’t press him for details. Some things it was better not to know.



But it was too hard not to say something, not to ask for even a hint. “You were away for a long time,” she murmured.



“I know. You’re worried, aren’t you?”



“Should I be?”



“I wasn’t gambling.”



Elise closed her eyes. She struggled, once again, to take him at his word. Too often, she’d looked the other way rather than confront the truth. It distressed her to realize that nothing had really changed about him—or her—in all these years.



“I swear to you I wasn’t,” he reiterated.



“Okay.” She placed her arm around his middle. He’d been her one folly in life. She knew what he was when she’d married him the first time. Her love hadn’t changed him then and it probably wouldn’t now.



“The deal went through on the condo.”



“Oh.”



“I’m moving in next week.”



She didn’t know how to respond, unwilling to reveal her disappointment or her sudden feeling of loss.



“I’ve stayed longer than I should have,” he whispered. “I never intended to intrude on Aurora and David for more than a couple of weeks.”



He didn’t want to overstay his welcome any more than Elise wanted to burden her daughter and family. But there was nowhere else for her to go. She was beginning to think she might never get her money back. The courts moved so slowly that by the time the case was settled, she’d be dead and buried, she thought cynically.



“I’d like you to move in with me,” he said, his voice a throaty whisper.



“I’m…not sure.” The temptation to give in was stronger than anything she’d felt in years.



“We don’t need to remarry if you don’t want.”



“Do you?” she asked.



“More than you’ll ever know.” He tightened his hold on her. She lay there quietly, comforted by his arms around her, and eventually realized he was asleep.



It was a long time before Elise managed to doze off. In the morning when she woke, he was gone. Aurora was already up and in the kitchen, dressed in her housecoat. Elise poured herself a cup of coffee. She knew David had left for work; he was usually on the road by seven. The house remained quiet. Before long, the boys would be up and so would Maverick. Elise savored these few minutes alone with her daughter.



“Mom,” Aurora said tentatively. “Did you know Dad’s moving?”



Elise nodded. “He told me…last night.” Embarrassed, she kept her back to Aurora as she added cream to her coffee, stirring more than necessary.



“You and Dad seem to be getting along quite well.”



“Uh…We are.”



“It’s all gone so much better than I expected.”



“Yes, but then your father always was a charmer,” Elise said tartly. She turned around and her face heated up at Aurora’s speculative look. “Oh, all right, if you must know, your father and I are sharing a bed.” Elise didn’t understand what possessed her to blurt it out like that. It made their love sound sordid and wrong, when sleeping with Maverick was the most natural thing in the world.



Aurora tried to hide her amusement by taking a sip of coffee. “It’s no secret. David and I guessed right away.”



This was embarrassing. Might as well go for broke. “He wants me to marry him.”



“Will you?”



If she knew the answer to that, she wouldn’t be discussing it with her daughter. “I…I’m not sure what to do. Your father—well, you know your father.”



“I don’t, Mom, not really. I have an image of him, but what Dad’s really like…I guess it’s somewhere between reality and my fantasy.”



“He’s been here all these weeks.”



“Yes,” Aurora said with a deep sigh. “He’s been wonderful with the boys. They adore him and I do, too—but then I always did.”



“I know,” she whispered. There’d been a time when Elise had resented her daughter’s love for her father, but no more. “I’ve made so many mistakes in my life,” she confessed. “I don’t want to make another one.”



“Follow your heart, Mom,” Aurora said quietly. “Follow your heart.”



CHAPTER 31



BETHANNE HAMLIN



Bethanne was almost afraid of her newfound happiness. Her fledgling business showed real promise. With every birthday party she designed, she booked two and often three more. But Annie was right. She couldn’t continue to do this without paid employees and additional help. With school starting in a few days, she wouldn’t have any choice but to hire an assistant.



What she needed, according to Paul, was a start-up business loan. He seemed so confident she’d get one that her doubts fell away. Because she’d never established credit on her own or even filled out a loan application, he’d promised to look everything over before she visited the bank.



They were meeting Monday at noon on the Seattle waterfront at Myrtle Edwards Park. She’d packed a thick deli sandwich, fruit and a drink as a small thank-you for his thoughtfulness. She was too nervous to eat and intended to go directly to her local bank following their meeting.



She had a picnic table staked out early and sat there, enjoying the late-summer day. The sun’s reflection on the water made it a deep greenish-blue and the wind off Puget Sound was fresh with the briny scent of the sea. A Washington State ferry could be seen leaving the dock, heading for either Bremerton or the town of Winslow on Bainbridge Island.



Bethanne rarely had reason to take the ferry, but in the painful aftermath of divorce, she’d taken one to Bremerton. She’d stood outside in the coldest, wettest part of the winter, tears streaming down her cheeks. The wind and the rain pummeled her, and she prayed with desperation that she’d catch cold and die because death seemed preferable to this horrible pain. How grateful she was now that her prayer hadn’t been answered. It felt as though the sun was shining on her life these days.