A May-September Wedding (12 page)

Cal
acknowledged that then called into the family room that supper was
in twenty minutes.

He busied
himself with reading the paper while waiting for toast to pop. When
Phyl came into the kitchen, he had his head buried in a story about
yet another reconsidered vote at city council.

"Do you need
help with anything"

Cal looked up
and his defences against her crumbled a little more. Phyl looked
different. He sat still and tried to figure out what was
different.

Phyl had a
mysterious smile as she watched him examining her.

Cal moved
closer and the puzzle started to come together. Phyl was wearing
bright colours. She had dug into her closet to find a pair of green
exercise pants and a bright yellow formfitting top. He finished his
examination with her beautiful blue eyes and took another step
forward. "I guess you're finally tired of dark clothes."

She walked
over to the sink, passing very close so that she was inside his
comfort zone.

Cal quickly
turned away, afraid that he was going to react to Phyl in a less
than appropriate way. Phyl managed not to look too smug as she
filled a water glass. She recognized that she wasn't playing fair.
Her mourning year was over, but Cal's was not. Ah, well, she could
wait a bit longer, but there was no reason not to let him know she
was interested.

As they were
doing homework after supper, Lydia asked Felicity, "Did you see
Mum?"

Felicity
replied, "Yes. So did Dad. Today was the anniversary of your Papa's
death, right?"

Lydia made the
connection. "Right, the mourning period is over. I guess Mum is
going to haul out her bright clothes again."

Felicity said,
"That's not all."

Lydia asked,
"What?"

"Didn't you
notice?"

"Notice
what?"

"Mum took off
her rings. When she was washing up she only put her watch on the
shelf above the sink. So I looked. No rings."

Lydia leaned
forward and lowered her voice. "And she was really flirting with
your Dad. Do you suppose she's admitted to herself that she wants
to go out with him?"

Felicity
sighed. "Well it's about time one of them came to their senses. I
keep expecting to walk in on them kissing."

"It won't
happen for a while. Your Dad is too stubborn to admit that he's
attracted to Mum."

"Okay,
Monster. Enough gossip, Dad will have my head if I don't get my
homework done before it's time to go."

Cal sat at the
computer to check his email and read some news. Phyl had been
looking at him all evening like she had a secret – when she wasn't
looking like she wanted him to drag her into a dark corner.

He sort of
read a chatty email from Vivian about the latest antics of the
kids. There was a picture of Jean and Lilian mugging for the camera
with Roscoe the Great Dane looking like he wanted to be anywhere
else. But his thoughts kept returning to the lit window across the
street.

Aside from the
form fitting exercise clothes that reminded him she was a very
desirable woman, there was something else. Her hair was up in one
of her loose braided buns, but that was a usual style for her. It
was one he had trouble with because he wanted to find out if
nibbling at the nape of her neck would give her as much pleasure as
it would him.

No, it was
something else. He opened an email from Jeremy and answered it. It
was still bugging him.

He got up and
stared out the window to see her shadowy form behind the sheers
brushing her hair before bed. He had an image of her sitting on a
vanity bench with her hair draped over her shoulders and him with a
brush in his hand making her light ash blonde hair shimmer in the
light of the side table lamp. He sighed and turned away.

He looked at
the calendar on his desk and remembered the reason for her trip
today. Harry died a year ago. He gathered his teacup and turned out
the lights in the den before padding down to the kitchen.

He washed the
teacup and put it in the rack. Then he almost smacked himself on
the forehead. She had taken off her wedding rings. That meant that
she was now finished with her mourning year and was free to do as
she wished.

Cal went to a
kitchen chair and sat down quickly. She was free to do as she
wished. Was she wishing to pursue him? Cal didn't know how he felt
about that. Obviously he was too old for her, so he would have to
suppress these odd desires he was having. She was bright and lively
and caring and available. She should have no problem finding a good
man.

But as he was
drifting off to sleep, a vision of Phyl's firm curves and beautiful
silky hair rooted itself in his mind and he could almost feel her
snuggled against him.

"So, what do
you think?" Cal glanced at his passenger as they took his new van
out for a spin.

Phyl looked at
the well appointed interior with the satellite radio, backup camera
and built in 110 volt outlet. "It's roomy."

"I thought
that I could use something with a bit more room." Cal pulled onto
the Queensway and quickly got up to cruising speed. "I expect that
as the retired guy, I'll be driving the girls to track meets and
soccer games when they hit high school."

"And our trip
to Virginia has nothing to do with it?"

Cal got a
sheepish look. "Maybe..."

Phyl watched
Cal as he drove. He seemed very excited about their upcoming
vacation. If she was totally honest, so was she. Except that March
break was the one time of the year that Harry had made into a true
family tradition. All of the other holidays had competing
priorities between her parents and his, but March break was their
time. They had taken a couple of joint vacations with the
Richardsons, but for the five years before he died they had driven
to somewhere in the US South. Last year she was up to her neck in
paperwork so they hadn't gone anywhere.

This year was
going to be somewhat different. Harry would usually book them into
a cabin or cottage and they would go riding or fishing or some
other outdoors activity. Cal was obviously much more interested in
museums and history.

"It was a
great idea to have each person get to decide their priority
activity and make sure that each of us gets a half day where we're
in charge."

"Brenda and I
came up with that when Elaine pointed out, quite correctly, that if
it was majority rule, we'd never do anything except play football
or go see old cars. So we made a family rule that in a week long
vacation, each person got half a day where everyone had to do what
they wanted to." Cal laughed. "Elaine wanted to go to a doll museum
when she was seven. So we went, but all the dolls were in glass
cases and she couldn't play with anything. But Mark had just gotten
into making models and we had to drag him away when lunchtime
came."

Phyl said, "I
can remember the first time Lydia dragged Harry to a Civil War
battlefield in Pennsylvania. He was expecting a small museum and a
couple of monuments that we could see in an hour, but Gettysburg is
huge and there are over a thousand plaques and monuments. By the
time we were ready for lunch, Harry was admitting that it was very
different from what he had expected. The last summer before Harry
died we took the August long weekend and spent two full days
touring the grounds on foot."

Cal snickered.
"I know. Felicity bugged us so much about it that we had to go on
Labour Day weekend. But Brenda insisted on paying for a guided car
tour because she wasn't up to all that walking. I guess it might
have been the start of the cancer that was making her tired."

They fell
silent for a while as Cal eased left to take the 174 to Orleans.
Phyl said, "It's very quiet for a van."

"That was the
deciding factor for me. I don't like having to raise my voice to be
heard. And all of the vans I looked at had DVD systems for the kids
and 12 volt outlets for portable electronics."

Phyl declared,
"I don't mind having the DVD system, but it only goes on after
dark, okay?"

Cal took a
quick glance at Phyl. "That's pretty emphatic. Any reason?"

"Music is fine
but I want them to be looking at the scenery during daylight hours.
You never know when you'll see a great blue heron or a really neat
looking farmhouse."

Cal nodded and
replied, "I've never had to think about that before. I've never had
a vehicle with a video system."

"Harry rented
a minivan with one when we took six kids to one of Tim's baseball
tournaments. There were so many fights over what movie we should
watch. When I put my foot down about no more movies the whining was
terrible. It was the last time we volunteered to drive a group like
that. On the way back I insisted that there were no movies until
after dark and things settled down a bit." Phyl took in their
surroundings. "Where are we going?"

"Yarn
shopping. Aunt Ros wants to knit you an Aran sweater so I'm
supposed to have you pick out a colour of Aran weight yarn and buy
sixteen one-hundred gram balls. She also insisted that it be single
fibre yarn of natural materials. Wool is traditional, alpaca or
mohair would be warmer, silk would be lighter, linen would be cool
to wear but she said cotton would be too heavy."

Phyl was
surprised. "Why would Ros want to do that for me?"

"She didn't
say. I'm guessing that she wants to thank you for taking care of
Felicity. Felicity is far and away her favourite in the family,
although she thinks Lydia is pretty special, too. All her grandkids
are overseas. Her daughter Jenna married an Australian who was
serving as a deacon in Winchester. They moved to Australia
thirty-seven years ago when he got his first parish and they've
only visited once since. Her son Peter got a temporary job in
Barbados almost forty years ago and never left. I don't even think
he's visited but they talk most weeks. Since she hates to fly, she
decided that Felicity and Lydia would be good targets to spoil. And
she likes you."

Phyl thought
about that and replied, "She's a very interesting woman. I knew her
family had emigrated but not where. And I like her, too, even if
she is blunt. Maybe because she's blunt."

"We're invited
for lunch." Cal pulled into the parking lot of the shop. "I haven't
accepted yet."

Phyl examined
Cal's face and decided that it was something he wasn't really sure
about. "If she's knitting me a sweater she'll have to measure me.
As long as we get back home by three we'll be fine."

"Okay, I'll
call when we get inside."

Phyl hadn't
been in a specialty yarn shop before. It seemed cozy with walls of
various yarns in all sizes and colours and fibres. There were
sample squares hanging in front of many of the bins so that people
could feel the fabric after it was knitted. There were racks of
needles, more than she ever thought anyone would need in steel,
plastic, bamboo and something that was advertised as milk protein
strands. There were racks of books and patterns, sample sweaters
and a pervasive scents of lavender, lanolin and dusty book. The
place felt homey.

Cal was on the
phone to Rosalind to let her know that they were coming for lunch.
Phyl watched as Cal took his Daytimer out of his inside pocket and
wandered over to the counter to write down some things.

Phyl asked the
clerk where she could find the Aran weight yarns, explaining that a
friend was knitting her a sweater. Over the next minute or so, the
clerk got Rosalind's name out of her and said, "Oh, you are so
lucky. She teaches classes here from May to October. She won't
schedule classes in winter because she doesn't like to drive except
on the clear days." Phyl was shown one of the Aran sweaters on
display, a man's crew neck in traditional unbleached Merino wool
with intricate ropes of Celtic knotwork covering the garment.
"Rosalind made this one. We get lots of people looking at it but
she won't take less than a thousand for it."

Cal sauntered
over. Phyl asked, "Don't you have something similar to that?"

Cal shrugged.
"I have three or four sweaters from Aunt Ros over the years. My
favourite is the Kelly green one that I'm sure you've seen me
wear."

The clerk led
Phyl over to the section of yarn bins that held Aran weight yarn.
"If none of these appeal, we have a few more baskets near the front
that have Aran weight yarn, but maybe not enough for a
sweater."

Cal stopped
the clerk, "Wait. Aunt Ros wanted me to pick up..." He consulted
his list and read verbatim, "Addi Turbo circular needles in 4.5
millimetre and 5 millimetre at least 80 centimetres long and
preferably 100 centimetres. And she needs medium and large coilless
safety pins. Plus she said you'd have the magazines you were
holding for her." Cal looked a mild apology at Phyl as he followed
the clerk to the cash.

There was a
swatch of the silk yarn. It felt nice, but the sample was starting
to pill so she didn't think that would be a good choice long term.
The alpaca felt lovely but would probably be too warm and the
colours were all earth tones anyway. The Lett Lopi was interesting
– it looked very durable and came in some great bright colours, but
it was scratchy. The Rowan mohair yarn felt beautiful, but it was
also very warm and it was a wool-mohair blend, which Ros said she
didn't want her to get.

The last one
she tried was the Rowan pure wool Aran. Her penny pinching habits
made her avoid even touching the sample square. At almost sixteen
dollars a ball the yarn for a sweater would cost almost three
hundred dollars. But she decided to touch it anyway. It was soft
and downy and cushioned. She decided to rub it against her cheek
and sighed with the luxurious feel of the fabric.