Tapestry of Trust (12 page)

“OK. Bye, Miss Crafton.” Drew popped his backpack on his shoulder. “Four weeks, huh?”

“Yes, sir.”

Halfway to the door Drew skidded to a stop, his tennis shoes squealing against the classroom floor. He glanced back. “My mom is asking off work. So I have to get my stars.”

“I’m confident you will.”

“OK.” Drew darted out the door, calling back. “I know I will, too.”

Kate glanced at her warily before sitting. “You’re quite the cheerleader.”

Stuffing the grade book back in her desk, Isabelle nodded. “Let’s hope my pep talk works. He’ll be a different kid when he sees what he can accomplish.”

“You mean if?” Kate clucked her tongue. “I hope he’s not in my class next year. I don’t have the energy or patience for him.”

Neither had Isabelle at the start of the year. But one look into Drew’s lonesome eyes and she couldn’t help but feel for him. The child didn’t fit in, and she knew that feeling all too well. Not that her grandmother didn’t love her, but Granny’s ailments kept her pre-occupied. She discovered negative attention grew easier to achieve. Isabelle assumed Drew’s single mom tried her best. But her busy work schedule had to be hard on her son.

“I understand Drew more than I care to admit. Besides, he’s making progress. Everyone deserves a chance to change.”

“You’re right. Just fix him before he gets into my class.”

Isabelle chuckled. Kate, raised in a stable, loving family, would never understand. “I’ll try.”

Kate scooted her chair closer. Her expression changed as if a thought struck. “Thirty-two days.” She slapped her hands on the desk. “Can you believe it?”

“Until?”

“Isabelle… The wedding.”

“Oh that.” Isabelle covered her mouth in feigned shock. “I almost forgot.”

Holding up a finger, Kate grinned. “Don’t let it happen again.”

“Like I could.” She winked. “So, thirty-two days until total bliss.”

“I can’t wait.” Kate widened her star-dusted eyes. “Everything will be wonderful. I’ve lost my last two pounds. My dress fits perfectly. My tan lines are filled in.”

“Wow.”Leaning on her elbows, Isabelle clasped her hands and studied Kate across the desktop. “What about that pimple on your face?” She couldn’t resist.

“Pimple?” Kate surged up from her slouch in the chair and ran to the mirror in the corner. “Where?” She leaned in close. “Isabelle, come show me.”

Isabelle chuckled. “Just kidding.”

“Are you sure?”

“Honest, you look great. Just make sure you and Mark put as much into the marriage as you have the wedding plans.”

Kate swung back around and grinned. “Great advice. Write that down and I’ll stick it on the refrigerator.”

“Or mention it to Mark’s mom. She might have it framed. You know what a romantic she is.”

“Tell me about it.” Kate tipped her head. “I think she already has our first anniversary planned.”

Isabelle’s thoughts immediately turned to Charlie’s mother. The woman she’d once assumed would be her mother-in-law. A chilling thought now. In fact, any thought about a Hamilton disturbed her. Which reminded her she’d be meeting Charlie today. Feeling a headache coming one, she kneaded a knuckle against her temple.

“Isabelle, are you OK?”

She tried not to sigh. “Just thinking about tonight.”

“Tonight? Oh, that’s right. What time is Charlie coming?”

Too soon. “Six forty-five. I promised him an hour. Probably the longest hour of my life.”

A purring cat look crossed Kate’s face.

But before she could speak, Isabelle blinked up at her friend and punched her lips into a grimace hoping to deter her.

Kate ignored her. “May be the best hour of your life.”

“I doubt that. But it’s time I hear him out. I’m ready to move forward.”

“Good, because everyone deserves a chance to change.” She winked.

“Touché, Kate.” Isabelle held up a finger. “However, there’s an exception to every rule. Charlie is the exception to this one.”

“But—”

Isabelle waved a hand and got to her feet. “Believe me, you wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.”

As much as she loved and trusted Kate, she couldn’t share this part of her life. “I wouldn’t want to bore you.”

Kate’s brow knitted. “Isabelle.”

Hitching her bag on her shoulder, Isabelle started for the door. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“I’ll be in late. We have game night with Mark’s family.”

“Sounds like fun.” Isabelle swung through the door. Good. Now she’d have some cool down time after she met with Charlie. Somehow she thought she’d need it.

10

Late afternoon, Charlie looked at his watch then rapped on Isabelle’s door for the third time. He waited a moment.

No answer.

She probably forgot…or worse, stood him up.

Blowing out a breath, he rubbed his neck. He should have pressed to meet with her sooner. Waiting almost a week allowed too much time for her to reconsider. Though it was hardly fathomable that she wouldn’t want to clear up their past and move forward.

He checked his watch again.
Six fifty.
Clenching his teeth, he pounded again.

Still no answer.

He pulled out his phone, checked his messages. None. He snapped the cell shut and shoved it in his pocket. Doubtful she even knew his number. And, even if she did…

He shook his head. Might as well forget it and head home. Getting things right with Isabelle was obviously more his idea than God’s. He chewed his lip and hammered his fist on the door one last time.
Lord, help me trust you, because my emotions are completely—

Somehow, over the thumping of his heart and the heavy rap on the door, he heard the patter of footsteps on the other side of the entry.

“I’m coming.” Isabelle’s voice rang out.

“Great. I mean, OK.” The response was barely out of his mouth when the door whipped open.

Isabelle wrestled with Humphrey, who bucked like an angry stallion in her arms.

“Come in and shut the door.” She ordered, trying to wrap the cat in a towel.

Good thing Charlie did what she asked, because a second later Humphrey squirmed out of her grip, leapt into the air, and flung himself onto a chair. His screech tore through the room as Isabelle tried to grab him. Slipping from her hands again, the feisty cat landed on the floor with a thud.

In disbelief, Charlie watched as the soggy feline skidded across the hardwoods, belly first with paws splayed like some animated Saturday morning cartoon character.

Not knowing what else to do, he followed in pursuit, nearly colliding with Isabelle as she scooped up the cat, just before he slammed into the table leg.

“He just hates baths.” Isabelle rubbed Humphrey with a towel against hissing protests.

No joke.
“Let me help.” Charlie hunkered down beside her and burrowed his fingers in the cat’s wet fur. Thrashing and meowing, Humphrey continued to fight. Charlie was amazed the animal still had the energy. For several moments the battle waged until one of Humphrey’s long claws dug into Charlie’s palm.

Letting go of the cat, Charlie jumped up. “Ouch!

“Oh no.” Isabelle, now on her feet, grabbed Charlie’s hand as Humphrey vanished under the sofa. “I’m sorry. Are you OK?”

“I’m fine. No big deal.” In spite of the pulsating pain, Charlie held still, allowing Isabelle to inspect the gash. Maybe the little guy did him a favor after all.

Isabelle rubbed her fingertip along the wound. “It’s not deep. You shouldn’t need stitches.”

“Good to hear.” Not that he thought he would. This wasn’t the first time he’d tussled with temperamental cats. A little soap and water and he’d be fine in a couple of days, but if Isabelle wanted to dote on him, no problem.

“I’ll have to remind Humphrey who rescued him from the drainage ditch.” Charlie tried to sound lighthearted. “Not to mention, I gave him to you in the first place.”

“I really feel terrible about this.” Isabelle glanced at him then whirled away. “Let me get you cleaned up.”

“I’m fine, really.” He called after her, studying the ragged tissue. He flexed his hand.
Ouch.
The little cougar wasn’t fooling around.

Isabelle reappeared clutching a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and a handful of gauze. “The good news is Humphrey is current on his rabies shots. Have you—”

“I think I’m up to date, too.” Impulsively he gave her a wink, pleased when she smiled.
Progress.

“I meant tetanus.” Isabelle rolled her eyes. “Have you had one in the last five years?”

Charlie thought fast. A couple of years ago he’d cut himself while fishing with his dad. He got four stitches and a shot. Had to be tetanus.

“I’m good.” He’d verify with his dad later. He didn’t want to end up in the emergency room tonight.

“Well, then, sit down, and I’ll get you cleaned up. Unfortunately, I’m out of antibacterial cream.”

“Peroxide is fine.” Charlie took a seat at the dining room table.

He watched in silence as Isabelle dabbed his palm with wet gauze. Figuring this wasn’t the best time to start a conversation, he sat back and enjoyed the view. Her perfect oval face, delicate high cheekbones and those lips…sweet, pliant, kissable. He blinked.

Enough of that. He took a breath.

“In a few days, you’ll be back to normal.” Isabelle finished taping the dressing in place.

“Thanks. I know where to come the next time I get hurt.”

She gave him a look that said, “Don’t you even think about it.”

He countered with smile.
We’ll see
.

She wadded up the leftover gauze and packaging. “I’ll wash my hands, so we can leave.”

“All right, but what about Humphrey?”

“With all his wiggling, he’s probably dry by now.” She disappeared into the kitchen. A moment later, she rejoined him and collected her purse. “I’m ready.”

Charlie followed her out the door, looking forward to getting a few things straight with Isabelle Crafton.

****

Isabelle matched Charlie’s strides as they walked toward the café. She wasn’t looking forward to this. In fact, it took every bit of her resolve not to turn and run home.

The bell on the door of Tenille’s chimed as Charlie opened it. As at the opening bell of a boxing match, butterflies, punching and kicking, flooded her midsection. Nope, she didn’t want to be there, especially on an empty stomach. She moistened her lips and inhaled, feeling a bit lightheaded.

Stepping aside, Charlie allowed her to enter first. “After you.”

Great
.
The perfect gentleman. Pleasant, helpful. Only about six years too late.

The rich aroma of coffee and sweet rolls mingled with decadent chocolate and seasoned the air, sending her stomach rumbling as she stepped up to the counter. She hugged her purse against her abdomen, hoping to dissuade the gurgling, and looked at the overhead menu. Today she decided to splurge. No point in being at Tenille’s and not enjoying something.

She opened her mouth ready to order a chocolate scone but shut it when she eyed the dessert case. Fresh peanut butter cookies would also go great with a cup of coffee.

Decisions. Decisions.

So wrapped up in her options she forgot for a moment who she was with until a gentle touch between her shoulder blades sent a shock wave up her spine. She straightened. No longer hungry.

“Anything you want. My treat,” Charlie whispered, his breath warm on her neck. Even as she stiffened further to ward off another chill, her knees wobbled.
Enough already.
What was wrong with her? These emotions had no place in her life. She dawdled a moment longer, staring at the menu, trying to get a hold of herself. She shouldn’t have come. OK, she conceded, maybe they did need to clear—

“Ma’am, what would you like?” The clerk stood ready, eyebrows raised, looking rather bored. Apparently, she didn’t want to be there any more than Isabelle did.

Isabelle rummaged in her purse for some change. “Decaf latte, skim milk. Charlie, I’ll get mine.”

Ignoring the comment, Charlie pulled a credit card from his wallet and tossed it on the counter. “I’ll take care of this young lady’s order. And, for me, black coffee.” Then as if he’d read her mind, he flashed an impish grin and pointed into the glass case. “Two of those peanut butter cookies. Still your favorite, Isabelle?”

Not anymore. Still, she nodded, but she wasn’t impressed.

“Decaf latte.” The clerk set the drink on the counter.

Isabelle swiped it up then searched for a place to sit. The sooner they got this over with, the better. In the far corner of the room, she saw a young man hitch up his backpack and push in his chair. Not the best location, but, oh well. Winding her way through the tightly packed room, Isabelle set her drink on the table and took the seat by the wall.

A moment later, Charlie joined her.

“This is nice. Out of the way.” He smiled and took a sip.

Isabelle lifted her drink, thinking how innocent Charlie looked sitting across the table. Down right charming, if she dared to be honest with herself. The way he helped her with Humphrey, even laughed about being clawed. She sighed.

Charlie slid the plate of cookies in front of her. “Have one. I’ve heard they’re the best in town.”

“Thanks.” Isabelle picked up a cookie and set it on a napkin.

“You know, Isabelle, I’ve missed you.”

Isabelle snickered. She didn’t mean to, but from what she could tell, Charlie had moved on just fine. And he had an ex-girlfriend to prove it. Unlike her, whose love life sort of bit the dust when they parted.

“Seriously, Isabelle. I have missed you.” Charlie repeated with a little more emphasis. She still didn’t buy it.

“Charlie, we only have an hour. Maybe we should talk about more pertinent issues.” Like January fourteenth, freshman year in college.

Charlie nodded.
“You’re right.”