Thread Reckoning Page 3

  “Would you like to sit down?” I asked.

  “Of course.” He sat on the sofa Sadie had vacated, and I sat on one of the club chairs.

  “What brings you to Oregon?”

  “You.”

  Chapter Three

  Before David could elaborate, Sadie, Blake, and Angus burst back into the shop.

  “What do you mean coming in here like nothing ever happened?” Blake said.

  Standing there with his hands on his hips, Blake actually kind of resembled David. They had the same hair color and fair complexion, but Blake was a little shorter and stockier than David.

  “Blake, I don’t want any trouble with you,” David said.

  “I know you don’t,” Blake said.

  Blake had assumed the role of my big brother while he and Sadie were dating and Sadie was my roommate in college. “It’s all right,” I told him.

  “It’s not all right,” Blake said. “He humiliated you in front of three hundred guests and then shows up today like he simply missed a dental appointment? I don’t think so.”

  Angus growled.

  “Sadie, please take Angus into the bathroom,” I said.

  Sadie did as I asked.

  “I’d just like to talk with Marcy privately,” David said. “Is that too much to ask?”

  “No,” I said. “It isn’t.”

  Blake blew out an angry breath and shook his head. “Fine. But if you need me, you call me,” he said to me. Then he turned to David. “And if . . . when Marcy tells you to leave, you’d better go.”

  Blake and Sadie left, but they peered in the window all the way down the sidewalk until they were out of sight.

  I smiled nervously. “They mean well.”

  “I know they do. They love you,” he said. “So do I.”

  Oh no, he didn’t! He did not just say that! My mouth was dry, my hands were shaking, and I felt kind of queasy. “What are you doing here, David?”

  “I’ve been doing a lot of soul searching the past few months.” He leaned toward me, placing his forearms on his thighs. “I was dating this girl, but I got so bored with her I finally couldn’t stomach even looking at her anymore. Not long after dumping her, I wound up losing my job. And you know what?”

  I didn’t answer, but he didn’t really wait for a response, either.

  “It didn’t even matter. I realized my job wasn’t that important to me. Nothing in my life meant much to me,” he said. “That’s a sad situation to find yourself in.”

  “I guess it is.”

  “So I started thinking back to the time when I was the happiest I’d ever been. It’s the time I was with you.” He reached out and took my hand. “Let’s start all over.”

  I shook my head and fought to hold back tears. “There’s too much water under that bridge to ever go there again. I could never trust you.”

  “Why not?” he asked. “I never cheated on you. I never lied to you.”

  “The last thing you told me before our wedding day was a lie. You said, ‘See you tomorrow.’ ” I snatched my hand back away from him.

  “I meant to be there,” David said. “When I left your house that evening, it was my heartfelt intention to go through with the wedding. But the more I thought about it, the scarier that scenario seemed to me.”

  “How flattering. Thank you.”

  He stood and began pacing. “It wasn’t you, Marcy. It was the responsibility. I wasn’t ready to stand up and say, ‘This is what I want to do with the rest of my life.’ I didn’t want to be responsible for a wife . . . for a family.”

  “And you couldn’t have come to that conclusion—I don’t know—a week before the wedding?” I asked, getting to my feet. “How about even a day before the wedding? You had to wait until the exact hour of the wedding to receive this revelation?” I stepped out of my heels and stood up on the ottoman so I could look David in the eye. “Do you know how hard my mother worked on that bridal gown?”

  “Yes, I do.” He strode to the front of the ottoman. “I hope you kept it.”

  The bells over the shop door jingled, causing both David and me to turn toward the sound. Todd walked through the door.

  “Marcy, are you okay?” he asked. He walked by David, and held his hand out for me to hold on to as I stepped down from the ottoman. “It’s all right. I’m here. Where did you see it?”

  “See what?” I asked.

  “The rat.” Todd glanced around the shop, keeping one arm around my waist. “Sadie called and said you’d seen a huge rat. Where’d you see it last?”

  “You just walked past it,” I said wryly.

  As Todd looked at the floor, David stepped forward and held out his hand. “David Frist, huge rat. Nice to meet you.”

  Todd shook David’s hand. “Todd Calloway, huge rat removal service. Nice to meet you, too . . . I think.” He gave me a wary look.

  “Sadie is just playing a trick on all of us,” I said with a forced laugh. “David is an old . . . friend . . . from San Francisco.”

  “An old friend, huh?” David gave me a rueful smile. “Oh well. I guess you could’ve said an old enemy.”

  “I need to get back to the Brew Crew,” Todd said, as a couple young women came into the shop. “Let me know if you need anything.”

  “I will.” I kissed his cheek. “Thank you for coming.”

  He nodded. “I’ll check on you later.”

  I slipped my heels back on and went to attend to my customers. They were interested in latchhooking. As David sat back down on the sofa, I took the women around to the latch-hook pillow and rug kits I had on hand and told them that if they didn’t see anything that appealed to them, I could order whatever kit they’d like. One chose a lighthouse rug kit, and the other opted for a pillow kit featuring a panda. I rang up their purchases, placed them in periwinkle bags with the Seven-Year Stitch logo, and invited the women to check out my available embroidery classes.

  “There are fliers inside your bags telling about each class,” I said. “Please let me know if you’re interested in one.”

  They thanked me and assured me they would look the fliers over. I had hoped David might leave while I attended to them, but no such luck.

  After they left, he got up off the sofa and came over to the counter. “Is there something going on between you and the rat slayer?”

  I shrugged. “We’re friends.”

  “He appeared a little proprietary to me.”

  “That shouldn’t matter to you anymore,” I said.

  “Maybe it shouldn’t. But it does.” He took both my hands. “I want you to think about the good times we’ve had, Marce. And I want you to think about the good times we can still have. It’s up to you. It’s not too late for us . . . not if you don’t want it to be. Give me another chance.”

  I started to speak, but he interrupted me. “Don’t say anything today. I’ll stop back by and see you tomorrow.”

  “But—”

  “Tomorrow,” he repeated. And then he left.

  At around five p.m., I locked up the shop and took Angus home for dinner. I had a class that night, so I planned to leave Angus in the fenced backyard while I went back to the shop. As Angus ate his food, I made myself a tuna salad sandwich. I took a can of Diet Coke from the fridge and sat down at the kitchen table to eat.

  I got out my cell phone, put it on speaker, and called Mom.

  “Beverly Singer,” Mom trilled on the phone’s third ring.

  “Hi.” I popped the top on the Diet Coke.

  “You sound as if you’re a million miles away,” she said. “Where are you calling from?”

  “The kitchen. But I have the phone on speaker. I’m eating my dinner.”

  “Oh, that’s it, then.” She paused. “Is everything all right?”

  “No.” I took a drink of my soda to relieve my dry mouth. “David came to see me today.”

  “David who?”

  “Mom, you know David who,” I said. “David Frist.”

  �
�I figured as much, but I was hoping maybe it was another David. David Boreanaz, maybe. David Ortiz. David Copperfield. I’d have even preferred David Lee Roth over David Frist,” Mom said. “Has it really taken him this long to come crawling back to you?”

  “You aren’t surprised that he asked me to get back together with him?” I asked.

  “Of course not. You were the best thing to ever happen to him. I’d heard he’d lost his job and his latest girlfriend. I didn’t know he’d headed your way, though, or else I’d have warned you.”

  “You want to know an amazing coincidence?” I asked. “I was thinking about him just this morning.” I explained to Mom about Cassandra Wainwright bringing her wedding dress in for embellishment and how it reminded me of the breathtaking gown she’d made me. “So, with all those memories flooding my mind, in walks David.”

  “You sound wistful, love.”

  “I’m wistful over what might have been, I guess,” I said. “I was so full of hopes and expectations then. And I still think David and I could have had the most beautiful children. But I’m not considering getting back with him.”

  “Are you sure?” Mom asked. “You sound awfully vulnerable.”

  “That seems to be the general consensus,” I said with a laugh. I told Mom about Sadie being in the shop when David first walked in and how she brought Blake over to try to intimidate David. “Then she called and told Todd that I’d seen a huge rat in the shop. Poor Todd rushed over to help out but had no idea what was really going on.”

  “That was terribly rude of her,” Mom said. “I know Sadie’s heart was in the right place, but this is your life. No one can tell you how to live it.” She sighed. “Granted, I don’t trust David not to hurt you again. But you have to follow your own heart. I just want you to be happy. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

  “Thanks, Mom. I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” she said. “And you’ll have beautiful children no matter who you marry.”

  “Even David Lee Roth?” I asked with a giggle.

  “Even him. But. Do. Not. Go. There.”

  I laughed. “Gotta run. I have to get back to the shop before class.”

  “Tell everyone hello for me.”

  Mom had charmed my friends and students when she came to visit. I promised I’d give her regards to Tallulah Falls. She was headed back to New York to a movie set the day after tomorrow, and she promised she’d give my regards to Broadway.

  I ended the call and finished my sandwich and diet soda. Then I put my coat back on and let Angus into the backyard. Before locking up the house, I turned on a lamp in the living room as well as the outside lights. I wasn’t paranoid, but I’d learned over the past five months that it paid to be careful. I hopped into my bright red Jeep and drove back to the shop.

  As I drove, I couldn’t avoid David’s suggestion that I think about the good times we’d had together. If you try not to think about something, it’s the only thing you can think about.

  We’d first met when I delivered some financial documents to his employer. I’d been in the oh-soexciting world of accounting then. Not to say I have anything against accounting. I mean, I’d gone to school and studied the subject for four years, and it had paid my bills for seven. But accounting wasn’t what I’d been meant to do with my life.

  Anyway, I’d taken the papers into David’s offices on my way home from work. My boss had instructed me to have the company CEO sign the documents so I could take them back to the office the next morning. Naturally, the CEO had already left for the day.

  I was more than a little ticked because the guy had known I was coming and had still left. I don’t know if he’d simply forgotten about our appointment or if I hadn’t been important enough for him to bother with. I asked the receptionist to call him at home to see if I could take the papers there for his signature. The last possible filing date was the next day, and I didn’t want to get in trouble with my boss by failing to get this guy to sign the papers so I could send them in.

  Instead, the panicky receptionist had called David. David was the human resources manager. He’d given me that million-dollar smile of his and had promised to take care of everything the next morning. Suddenly I wasn’t so ticked anymore.

  David had been true to his word. Or, at least, he had been on that occasion. He’d had the papers signed and had delivered them to my office just before noon. And then he’d taken me to lunch at a charming little bistro I’d never even heard of before. And I thought I’d been to every bistro in San Francisco!

  The next day, David had taken me to dinner. After that, it seemed we couldn’t get enough of each other. When we weren’t together, we were on the phone talking to each other. I felt like a giddy teenager with her first crush.

  David and me riding the Ferris wheel at the carnival. Laughing and holding hands as we walked in the rain with David holding his coat open, trying to shield me with it. Talking over coffee in the café around the corner from my apartment building until all hours. Opening the door first thing in the morning and finding a single red rose David had left for me.

  I sniffled, tears streaming down my cheeks. Chords of “The Way We Were” played in my head.

  Maybe the song was right in that people suppress memories that are too painful to remember. In addition to that one biggie I simply couldn’t forget—being left at the altar—I tried to dredge up some of those bad memories of David to counter the good ones.

  That’s how I’d gotten through the breakup originally. I’d thought of all the reasons why David had done the best thing for the both of us. Now I needed to bring those reasons back to the forefront of my mind and remind him—and myself—of them . . . remind us both why we weren’t good for each other, after all.

  I remembered the times David had accused me of being too dependent on my mother. He wasn’t very close to his own parents, and he resented my relationship with her. He thought I gave her too much say in my life, that I spoke to her over the phone and visited her too often, and that I talked about her too much to his friends. He’d said I was constantly bragging about her being a hotshot in the movie business and was trying to impress everyone. In truth, I couldn’t remember speaking to any of them about her except once when one of them asked me if my mom was Beverly Singer, the costume designer. I couldn’t have cared less what his friends thought of me or my mother. I only wanted David to be proud of me and happy with me.

  And I remembered how snobbishly he’d behaved toward Sadie and Blake. He’d acted as if they were flower children or something because they owned a coffee shop on the Oregon coast.

  “Do they think MacKenzies′ Mochas will be the next Starbucks or something?” he’d asked.

  “They’re not trying to be the next Starbucks,” I’d tried to explain. “They’re doing what they love. I think it’s wonderful.”

  “Wonderful? Maybe. Practical? Hardly.”

  Oh yeah, David could be condescending, rude, crass, and arrogant. I parked the Jeep in front of the Seven-Year Stitch, turned off the engine, and dug in the glove box for a tissue. I wiped my eyes and then took my makeup kit out of my purse and touched up my makeup. I didn’t want my class to arrive and see that I’d been crying.

  I put the kit back into my purse and got out of the Jeep. As soon as I walked up the two steps to the sidewalk, I saw it. A single red rose in a vase by the front door.

  It was a good thing I still had my makeup kit.

  “Marcy!”

  I fought back the tears and turned to see Todd jogging across the street toward me.

  “Hi!” I called, unlocking the door and picking up the vase. “Come on in.” I flipped the lights on and set the vase on the counter. “Let me put my coat and purse in the office, and I’ll be right back. Want me to hang up your jacket?”

  “No,” he said. “I’m fine. Thanks.”

  I returned to find him sitting on the sofa facing the window. His black leather jacket was draped over one of the chairs. I sat down beside him.<
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  “I’m sorry about what Sadie did to you today,” I said. “Having you rush over here for nothing wasn’t funny.”

  He shrugged. “She sounded really upset over the phone, and she said you were freaking out.”

  “Well, I was. But she should’ve told you the truth. Remember—”

  “She told me,” Todd interrupted. “I called her when I got back to the Brew Crew, and she explained the whole thing. Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine. It was just a shock to see David. I hadn’t even spoken with him since the night before we were supposed to have been married.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Todd seemed ill at ease—like he didn’t know what to do or how to act. Maybe he thought I’d decided to get back with David. I wanted to let him know I had no intention of doing that, without coming right out and saying so.

  “Thank you again for coming by and checking on me.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said, smiling slightly. “I just wanted you to know I’m here for you . . . and that you can count on me.”

  Class did me good that evening. Vera was there, along with Julie Clark and her daughter, Amber (both of whom have been taking classes since I first came in October), two of Amber′s friends from school—Carlie and Jennica (all three pretty, outgoing teens), and a couple of newcomers. I asked the new students to introduce themselves to the class.

  Both were older women, and they looked at each other and then at everyone else shyly.

  “I suppose I can go first,” said one, who had tight white curls, blue eyes, and silver wire-rimmed glasses. “I’m Berta Ginsberg. Molly and I are from up the coast a little ways. We heard about your classes, and we thought we’d give this one a try. I hope you aren’t too far along to be able to teach us something.”

  “Not at all, Berta,” I said. “We’re only in the second week of this candlewicking course. I think you’ll pick it up very quickly.” I smiled at the other woman, whose hair was as brown and straight as Berta’s was white and curly. “Molly, is it?”