Read Online The Fortune Quilt by Lani Diane Rich - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Lani Diane Rich
Tags: Fiction, General, Romance, Contemporary, Love Stories, Contemporary Women, Psychic Ability, Fate and fatalism, Quilts, Women Television Producers and Directors
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yesterday, to get that tape? And my dad is… I don’t know. Talking to her. I’m just…”
I swallow hard and shake my head and feel like I’m about to burst either into tears or hysterical laughter.
“Jesus, Carly,” Christopher says after a moment. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I say instinctively. “I’m fine. Really. It’s just… my head’s all a big mess, you know?”
“Wow. How’s your dad handling it?”
I shrug. “He left for work early this morning. I didn’t see him. Last night he seemed pretty shook.”
“I imagine.” Christopher pauses. “How about Ella? Five?”
“I haven’t talked to Ella yet,” I say. “Five’s on a weekend trip.”
“So, it’s just you,” he says, his voice tight. “Handling this on your own.”
“There’s not much to handle,” I say. “She’s been gone seventeen years. Now she’s back. She’ll be gone again soon. It’s not a big deal.”
“Carly,” Christopher says, but then stops himself from saying whatever he was going to say. I feel trapped. I want to avoid both the topics of Christopher’s feelings and my mother’s return, but I have to talk about one or the other. I cannot get by with a comment about the weather.
“I am worried about Dad, though,” I say. “It was so hard on him, the first time she left. Turning her away now is going to kill him.”
There’s a slight pause. “Are you sure he’s going to turn her away? I mean, aren’t they still married?”
“Yeah, but…” I trail off. Deep down, I am worried that Dad will want to mend things with her, but I don’t want to admit that. Instead, I stare out the window, and allow myself to be silent, to disconnect. Finally, we stop at our destination, and Christopher shuts off the engine and turns to face me.
“Look,” he says, “I acted like a big asshole last night. But I want you to know that I’m still me. I’m still your friend. No matter what.”
I smile at him. That’s such a Christopher thing to do, to put his own feelings aside and think of me first. In the back of my head, I know that I’ve got to be crazy not to grab hold of this very good thing. Any smart girl would. Then there’s a moment when we’re sitting there, smiling at each other, and he starts to lean forward, and it freaks me out.
“Snakebite’s waiting,” I say, pulling back a bit.
Christopher smiles, reaches over and gives my hand a quick squeeze. “Okay. Let’s get moving, then.”
I follow behind him up to the house, watching him move with that big-guy grace, wondering if there’s really much of a difference between loving someone as a friend and being in love with them, and getting the distinct feeling I’m about to find out.
***
It is amazingly easy for me to go on with life as though my mother had never shown up. I spend most of the weekend working on the Snakebite Kid story, and when I’m home, things are normal. Dad seems okay, even chipper. On Sunday night, Ella comes over for dinner and we all eat lasagna and drink wine and speculate over Five’s relationship with Botox. Dad makes no mention of Mary, and I follow his lead. I wonder if she’s left already, if he sent her packing and is quietly moving on. Maybe he’s finally gained closure. Maybe her coming back, however briefly, was a good thing for him. I don’t ask him about it, though. I figure if he wants to talk, he’ll talk. Until then, It suits me just fine to pretend nothing’s happened, and by Monday morning, I’m feeling almost normal again. When Dad asks me to be home for dinner to celebrate Five’s return from Flagstaff, I’m actually looking forward to it.
At work, Christopher and I spend the morning arguing over editing choices, which is typical, and when we break, we decide to go for lunch at the Taco Shack. Things almost feel normal again until we see Eloise rushing down the hallway toward us.
“Oh, thank God I found you guys,” she says, breathless. “There’s a meeting in the
I swallow hard and shake my head and feel like I’m about to burst either into tears or hysterical laughter.
“Jesus, Carly,” Christopher says after a moment. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I say instinctively. “I’m fine. Really. It’s just… my head’s all a big mess, you know?”
“Wow. How’s your dad handling it?”
I shrug. “He left for work early this morning. I didn’t see him. Last night he seemed pretty shook.”
“I imagine.” Christopher pauses. “How about Ella? Five?”
“I haven’t talked to Ella yet,” I say. “Five’s on a weekend trip.”
“So, it’s just you,” he says, his voice tight. “Handling this on your own.”
“There’s not much to handle,” I say. “She’s been gone seventeen years. Now she’s back. She’ll be gone again soon. It’s not a big deal.”
“Carly,” Christopher says, but then stops himself from saying whatever he was going to say. I feel trapped. I want to avoid both the topics of Christopher’s feelings and my mother’s return, but I have to talk about one or the other. I cannot get by with a comment about the weather.
“I am worried about Dad, though,” I say. “It was so hard on him, the first time she left. Turning her away now is going to kill him.”
There’s a slight pause. “Are you sure he’s going to turn her away? I mean, aren’t they still married?”
“Yeah, but…” I trail off. Deep down, I am worried that Dad will want to mend things with her, but I don’t want to admit that. Instead, I stare out the window, and allow myself to be silent, to disconnect. Finally, we stop at our destination, and Christopher shuts off the engine and turns to face me.
“Look,” he says, “I acted like a big asshole last night. But I want you to know that I’m still me. I’m still your friend. No matter what.”
I smile at him. That’s such a Christopher thing to do, to put his own feelings aside and think of me first. In the back of my head, I know that I’ve got to be crazy not to grab hold of this very good thing. Any smart girl would. Then there’s a moment when we’re sitting there, smiling at each other, and he starts to lean forward, and it freaks me out.
“Snakebite’s waiting,” I say, pulling back a bit.
Christopher smiles, reaches over and gives my hand a quick squeeze. “Okay. Let’s get moving, then.”
I follow behind him up to the house, watching him move with that big-guy grace, wondering if there’s really much of a difference between loving someone as a friend and being in love with them, and getting the distinct feeling I’m about to find out.
***
It is amazingly easy for me to go on with life as though my mother had never shown up. I spend most of the weekend working on the Snakebite Kid story, and when I’m home, things are normal. Dad seems okay, even chipper. On Sunday night, Ella comes over for dinner and we all eat lasagna and drink wine and speculate over Five’s relationship with Botox. Dad makes no mention of Mary, and I follow his lead. I wonder if she’s left already, if he sent her packing and is quietly moving on. Maybe he’s finally gained closure. Maybe her coming back, however briefly, was a good thing for him. I don’t ask him about it, though. I figure if he wants to talk, he’ll talk. Until then, It suits me just fine to pretend nothing’s happened, and by Monday morning, I’m feeling almost normal again. When Dad asks me to be home for dinner to celebrate Five’s return from Flagstaff, I’m actually looking forward to it.
At work, Christopher and I spend the morning arguing over editing choices, which is typical, and when we break, we decide to go for lunch at the Taco Shack. Things almost feel normal again until we see Eloise rushing down the hallway toward us.
“Oh, thank God I found you guys,” she says, breathless. “There’s a meeting in the
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