Blue Heart Blessed (24 page)

Dear Harriet,

I’ve never really thought of myself as an unlikable person. I know I’m not perfect. I’ve got flaws just like everyone else. But I’ve never had anyone truly dislike me for no apparent reason. At least no reason that I can see.

Yes, there were those mean girls in junior high who made fun of the fact that my parents were as old as their grandparents. But that never felt very personal. Maybe it should have, but it didn’t. I was embarrassed and a little peeved, but I didn’t take it as an insult against my person.

But this thing with Ramsey. It makes my head spin. Can you honestly still question me about whether or not I’m falling for the wrong man? You want me to define “wrong?”

Okay, I will.

Wrong means I am drawn to a guy who doesn’t like being in the same room with me, doesn’t like talking to me, won’t be honest with me and can’t wait to get away from me. Falling in love with a guy like that is falling in love with the wrong guy. I should be falling in love with the guy who does like talking to me, who does want to be in the same room with me and doesn’t keep things from me. That’s the kind of man to fall in love with. That’s the right one.

What on earth did Ramsey mean by, “You did nothing to me?” Who did I offend if it wasn’t him? I can’t believe having his forgiveness means so much to me.

I’m watching Father of the Bride, but I’m going to turn it off.

I miss my Dad.

Dear Daisy,

There is no way to know what Ramsey meant by what he said unless you ask him. I doubt that it means whatever you did doesn’t matter to him personally. It’s hard to be mad at someone whose actions mean nothing to you.

I know you miss your dad.

Harriet

R
euben arrived a little before eleven in a rented black Lexus. He’s looking well. His first order of business was to say hello to my mother.

They embraced like two long-lost friends. He told her how beautiful she looks. She told him he needs bifocals. They laughed.

Then he turned to me. “Daisy, I caught a glance of the roof from the street and I can’t wait to see it. Where’s the architect?”

I had to tell Reuben that the architect went home to Duluth.

“What for? Didn’t you tell him I’d be getting a hotel room?”

“Yes, Reuben. I told him.”

“Well, call him up. Tell him to come back down here. I want to meet him. I’ve got some buildings on the East Coast I want to talk to him about. See if he can come back tomorrow afternoon. I’ve got some business to take care of in the morning.”

I took Reuben up to see the rooftop and he was genuinely amazed. Mom and L’Raine came up with us. Father Laurent wanted to join us, too, but was feeling woozy. He asked me to stop by later.

I know what he’ll want to talk about.

After being completely wowed by the roof, Reuben invited my mom, L’Raine and me out to lunch.

L’Raine declined.

I don’t have much of an appetite.

So my mom and Reuben left. That was fifteen minutes ago. I am sitting now at my desk contemplating the phone call I must make to Ramsey. L’Raine has gone up to check on Father Laurent and make him lunch. The sales floor is quiet.

I pick up the phone.

I wonder if Ramsey has found the little blue heart in his toolbox.

I press the numbers to his cell phone.

It rings and I tell myself to breathe normally.

When I’m connected to his voice mail, I’m alternately relieved and disappointed. I clear my throat to leave a message:

“Hello, Ramsey. It’s Daisy. Reuben Tarter, the owner of the building, is here and he wants to meet you. He really likes the garden and he wants to talk with you about some buildings he owns on the East Coast. Um, he wants to know if you can come by tomorrow afternoon. Hope that works okay for you. You can stay here overnight if you want. Reuben’s got a hotel room downtown. Well. Bye.”

Click.

That’s that.

I stand up and head back out onto the sales floor. My eyes are drawn to the display window where my wedding dress hangs on a headless mannequin.

On impulse, I walk over to it and touch the billowing skirt. It makes a tiny shushing sound. The woman who made this dress died three months after I was supposed to get married. It was the last dress she made. She was seventy-eight. She told me once that she had made more than a hundred-and-fifty wedding dresses in her years as a dressmaker. And that mine had been her favorite.

Her favorite.

The little bell attached to the front door rings and I turn away from the dress I know I will never wear.

Ramsey never returns my call. I guess I’m not surprised. Reuben assumes that since he hasn’t called back by the end of the business day to say he can’t come, that means he will.

“Let’s go Italian for dinner, shall we?” Reuben announces just as I’m closing the store.

“I’m up for it,” Mom answers. “How about you, L’Raine?”

“Well, should we leave Miles alone?” L’Raine asks.

I really don’t want to go out. I offer to make something for Father Laurent’s supper.

“We won’t be gone long,” Mom assures me as they head out the front door. I lock it behind them and turn out the lights.

I had been up earlier in the day to see Father Laurent but he had been sleeping. I know he wants to know how I left things with Ramsey. I feel kind of sad that I have so little to tell him.

I lightly tap on his front door and wait for him to call me in. He’s at his computer, which is a good sign.

“Feeling better?” I ask.

“Oh, not too bad. As long as I don’t move around too much, I’m okay, I think.”

“Well, I’m your dinner date tonight, Father. Mom and L’Raine went out to eat with Reuben.”

“I’m not terribly hungry, Daisy.” He sits back in his computer chair.

“How about just some pancakes, then?”

“All right.”

As I busy myself with Bisquick and a griddle, Father Laurent makes his way slowly into the kitchen and sits down at the table. He doesn’t ask about Ramsey. He asks about me.

“Are you all right, Daisy?”

“Oh, as long as I don’t move around too much, I’m okay.”

He smiles at my little joke.

“You know, I have to constantly remind myself that there is a love that is perfect, undying and that never disappoints,” he says.

I whisk the batter with a wooden spoon, churning the lumps of powder into smooth conformity.

“Sure. Father. And where do we find that?” I don’t mean to sound cynical. I hope it doesn’t sound that way. It’s an honest question.

“I’ve already told you. You already possess it. You’ve forgotten, Daisy!” Father Laurent leans forward in his chair. “It’s the love God gives you to give away. Don’t tell me you’ve lost that little blue heart I gave you?”

I stop my stirring and a little mirthless laugh escapes me.

“I haven’t lost it, Father. I just don’t have it anymore.”

“You don’t?” He is adequately surprised.

“No, I don’t.”

“Well, where is it?”

“I snuck it inside Ramsey’s toolbox the day he left.”

Father Laurent sits back in his chair, wordless.

I awake on the morning of my thirtieth birthday with a slight headache. I try to chase it away with a strong pot of coffee, but it doesn’t want to leave.

Max stops by on his way to work to wish me a happy birthday and to give me a present: a hummingbird feeder for the new and improved roof.

When I get downstairs to Something Blue, Mom and L’Raine have decorated my desk with streamers and placed balloon heads on all the headless mannequins. The balloons have all been painted with smiling faces. They all look like they’re lottery winners.

Shelby arrives minutes later with a box of Krispy Kreme doughnuts and an offer I can’t refuse: a day out with her on Nicollet Mall where we can shop and eat and stroll to our heart’s content.

It’s a nice way to spend my birthday and gets me out of The Finland and my monotonous life.

We leave a little before ten in the morning and we don’t return until after four o’clock. Ramsey has been by already to talk with Reuben about the green roof and other projects Reuben has in mind.

My mother makes it a point to tell me he seemed like he was looking for me.

I find that a little hard to believe.

She also tells me Ramsey said he has some appointments in Minneapolis but that he wants to swing by later to check on his dad before he heads back to Duluth.

I will probably miss that appearance, too, since we are all headed to Ping’s for my birthday. All of us except for L’Raine. She has offered to stay behind with Father Laurent, though he fussed about this. I’ll bring them home all the leftovers.

Dinner is wonderful, t
he food that is. So is the company. Really, it is. Reuben can be quite funny. He’s been everywhere and has a story to tell about every place he’s been. And I think he’s finally winning my mother’s heart after all these years. I can’t say that I blame my mother for showing interest in Reuben. Dad has been gone nearly five years. It’s actually a treat to see the two of them having so much fun together. For some reason it doesn’t grate against me that she is finally yielding to Reuben’s affections. I think my father, if he could do so, would approve. I don’t think he would want my mother to spend the rest of her earthly days alone. That’s the kind of man he was.

We get back to The Finland a little before nine.

Ramsey’s car is in the parking lot.

While everyone else heads upstairs or home, I make my way to Something Blue, where my newly invented life began and is still beginning.

I won’t run into Ramsey there. I can spend the last few hours of my thirtieth birthday in the quiet solitude of my boutique.

It’s a tad spooky fiddling around in the store in semi-darkness. I have only a few lights on so as not to attract attention from the street and my mannequins still have their merry balloon heads taped to their necks. They look a little eerie.

To calm myself, I begin to hum some of my dad’s favorite songs. I am straightening gowns on their hangers and am halfway through “Someone to Watch Over Me” when I hear a noise from behind. I whip around to see Ramsey walking toward me.

“Ramsey.”

He stops when he’s a few feet from me. He holds out his hand, palm up. A little blue heart rests there.

“Is this yours?”

That niggling headache I had earlier rushes to the front of my skull. I stare at the little heart while my pulse does a little dance in my veins. “Not anymore.”

“You put it in my toolbox?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Pounding head, pounding pulse, pounding, pounding.

“Because I wanted you to have it.”

Ramsey just stands there with the little heart on his open palm and says nothing.

“I know you told me I did nothing to offend you, but I’m not stupid, Ramsey. I know I’ve disappointed you in some terrible way. And I wanted you to know I was sorry. I’d like your forgiveness, too, if that’s not too much to ask. I really am very, very sorry.”

His eyes stay on mine. I try very hard not to look away. “You don’t even know what you’re apologizing for, do you?”

Now I am the one just standing here, saying nothing. I don’t know what to say.

“Do you ever
think
about you’re doing, Daisy? Do you ever stop and think about the people who will be affected by what you do? Do you honestly think you can do whatever you want, regardless of how it will affect other people?”

Dazed and confused doesn’t begin to describe me. I am speechless. I manage to whisper a single question. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about people who take great risks in loving other people. How can you so easily cheapen what that means?”

Words fail me. It’s like I am Kristen. Like every woman is Kristen. “Ramsey, I don’t know what you are talking about.”

His countenance falls as he looks at me. The angry edge fades away. “No, I don’t suppose you do.”

Ramsey places the little blue heart on the show table to his right, turns and walks away.

The door closes softly behind him and I can do nothing but stand there in a sea of wedding dresses, staring at my little blue heart on the table.