One week from the day he’d told Jillian he loved her, Connor brought Gram to the shop. He wanted his grandmother to see the place one more time in its glory, just like it had looked for all his life. Tomorrow the last of the quilts would be moved to the museum.
But today, all the colorful quilts were still on the walls. The Singer Featherweight machines lining up as if waiting to be called in to duty. The dark mahogany counter waited, solid and warm.
Jillian had finished all the logging, all the photos, all the stories. Tomorrow, they’d be in a new home, but he wanted Gram to take it all in one last time. Jillian would shoot pictures: of the shop, of Gram, of the people who visited this last day so no one would forget A Stitch in Time.
It was early, only a little after seven, but Connor planned to get Gram all in and settled before anyone arrived. Her crutches were behind her chair so she could use them if she had to go to the restroom. Her sewing basket was within reach. Jillian made her favorite tea and put it in a special cup that fit in a holder attached to her wheelchair.
Joe Dunaway followed them in with two bags of donut holes. Sunnie and Reese stopped in to wish her a great day on their way to school.
Gram was beaming, happy to start the day. She even rolled a few feet to one of the supply racks and refilled a spot. Connor kissed her cheek and reminded her he’d be just across the street.
The hours passed as one long party. Everyone in town seemed to know this was the last day the shop would be open, and then next week they’d have the opening of Gram’s exhibit and she’d be the guest of honor.
Jillian would be working with the curator to get everything right.
While Connor moved to the door, his gaze scanned the shop for one more glance at Jillian. She hadn’t really spoken to him about anything but the store or Gram since the stormy night he’d told her he loved her.
All week the evenings had been clear, warming into spring, but for Connor, twilight each day was the time he dreaded. He knew he couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t think. All he saw was the expanse of forever without Jillian. Every time he tried to block out the nightmares, stormy eyes were crying in his dreams. Beautiful, almost-blue, almost-gray eyes.
How could he let her walk away when he knew she’d have those dark times when storms came and there would be no one to hold her? When she left, she’d be alone, all alone.
“You want a cup of coffee for the road? I made a pot for Joe,” she asked, as if they were little more than strangers.
“No,” he managed to say, just as politely. “I’m headed over to the office to try to get a little work done. There are a few meetings scattered throughout my day. Mostly people wanting to rent one of the warehouses. But, Jillian, call me if you need me.”
She nodded, but didn’t meet his gaze. He stepped out the door and made himself walk away. There was nothing more to say between them.
He spent the morning working, but his mind was still across the street. He called a few times, and Joe told him to stop worrying. He called back half an hour later to see if Gram was ready to go home, but he could hear her saying no even though Joe was holding the phone.
Today, they’d all agreed, she would stay as long as she wanted to. The last day.
At lunch, Connor had chicken salad sandwiches brought over on a tray for all the ladies who were sitting around, not quilting today, but telling stories of all the great times they’d had in the shop.
Midafternoon, Joe called Connor, saying he needed help with a mission that had to be done today.
Connor walked across the street and asked Gram three times if she’d be all right until he or Joe got back.
She shooed him away. “I’ll be fine. Jillian is doing all the work. I’m just relaxing. Besides, the girls at the Acres are planning a big dinner for me. When we leave here, I want to go back there. It’s time. I miss seeing them and I’d like to get out of your dining room and into my own bedroom. All my things are there. I swear you’re wasting your life worrying about me.”
“She’ll be fine.” Jillian touched his arm.
Connor’s muscles tensed and she moved away. All he wanted to do was pull her close, but this wasn’t the time or the place. Part of him wanted to demand that they spend one more night together, but he knew if they did, he’d never be able to watch Jillian James drive out of his life.
Joe drew Jillian’s attention before Connor could say too much. If they parted now, without another word, maybe she’d have mostly good memories. Maybe he wouldn’t make a fool of himself. Maybe, one day, she’d walk back into his life.
It could happen, he reassured himself. Even if he didn’t know where to find her, she’d always know where he was.
Connor stepped out of the shop, telling Joe he’d be waiting in the truck.
He had to be alone. He had to start getting used to not seeing Jillian.