8 Sandpiper Way Page 13


“I don’t think you should be this concerned, Megan. Your mother would want you to live your life without this worry hanging over your head.” She gave the girl’s arm a squeeze.

Fresh tears welled in Megan’s eyes. “That’s really wonderful news.”

“There could be any number of reasons you miscarried your first pregnancy. It doesn’t mean it’ll happen again.”

“Craig and I were devastated.” She blinked back tears. “My father, too…”

“It’s never easy to lose a child,” Faith said gently. “I had a miscarriage myself. That was many years ago, of course. Both my children are grown and married with children of their own. Yet even now I sometimes wonder about that lost baby.”

“Losing the pregnancy came so soon after my mother’s death,” Megan whispered brokenly.

“I’m sorry.” Faith took hold of Megan’s hand, and the young woman gripped her fingers painfully hard.

Apparently unable to speak, Megan hiccupped a laugh. “That pregnancy wasn’t planned, either. You’d think Craig and I would know how babies are made. I swear we do…It’s just that…well, we didn’t use the protection we should have.”

“Let’s wait and make absolutely sure you are pregnant, okay?”

“Okay. I guess I have to believe that whatever happens, God doesn’t make mistakes.”

“Dr. Timmons will be able to tell if you’re pregnant, and we’ll go from there.”

“Okay.” Megan’s voice was a little stronger now.

“What you need,” Faith said next, “is something to help you relax.” She grinned. “And I don’t mean drugs. Do you have any hobbies?”

“I do some scrapbooking, but I’ve been meaning to take up knitting. It’s so popular now and if I really am pregnant, I’d like to knit a blanket for the baby—if I can hold on to this pregnancy.”

“Think positive.”

“I’m trying.”

“Knitting isn’t hard to learn,” Faith said encouragingly.

“A friend showed me the basic stitches last year. I’m sure I won’t have any problem picking it up again, but I don’t remember how to cast on.”

“There’s nothing to it.”

“Do you knit?”

Faith nodded. Her last project had been socks for Troy Davis. “I’ll leave you now,” she said, lightly touching Megan’s arm. “Dr. Timmons will be in to see you shortly.”

“Thank you. You’ve been very kind.”

Faith managed a smile before she left the room, a smile that slipped as soon as she’d closed the door. What were the odds of this happening? Faith would never have thought that eliminating Troy Davis from her heart and her life would be this difficult.

Her lunch break was an hour long. Faith had brought a sandwich from home and an apple. When she’d eaten, she still had ample time to run a few errands, so she headed for The Quilted Giraffe, the local fabric store. Her granddaughter wanted Faith to sew her a special dress for the Christmas Eve church service.

Faith had chosen her fabric—a green velvet Kaitlyn would love—when Megan Bloomquist approached her.

“Hello, again,” the young woman said, looking far more peaceful now than she had earlier.

Faith knew from the notation Dr. Timmons had made in her chart that Megan was indeed pregnant. That should make Troy happy.

She was doing it again. This constant thinking about Troy had to stop!

“Hello, Megan,” she said cordially, if a bit stiffly.

“It’s all right that I talk to you, isn’t it? I mean, I don’t want to go against medical protocol.”

“No, it’s fine. Don’t worry.” Faith felt that her response might have been a bit cool.

“Did you hear that I’m definitely pregnant?”

“I did. Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” The young woman’s happiness appeared genuine. “You were wonderful. Thank you for helping me gain some perspective on this.”

“Megan, really, I didn’t do anything.”

“But you did,” she insisted. “I was an emotional wreck when I walked into the clinic and after speaking to you I felt a thousand times better.”

“I’m glad I could help.” Faith pulled the bolt of fabric off the shelf and carried it to a clerk to be measured and cut.

“I’m taking your advice,” Megan said, following her. “Look.” She lifted a small wire basket draped over her arm. Inside were knitting needles, several skeins of a variegated yarn in pastel colors and a pattern book that included a selection of baby blankets.

“You’ll find that nothing calms you the way knitting does. In fact, there are studies that prove it.”

Megan smiled. “You like reading studies, don’t you?”

Faith smiled back. “I guess I do.”

“The lady at the counter said she’d teach me how to cast on,” Megan said, “but she’s been busy ever since so I’ve been waiting around until she’s free.”

“Here.” Faith set her fabric on the cutting table. “I can show you.”

“Oh, thank you!”

Faith removed the needles from their packaging and pulled the yarn free from one of the skeins. In a few minutes, Megan had caught on.

While the woman behind the counter measured and cut the green velvet, Faith reviewed the pattern instructions with Megan to be sure she understood how to get started.

“I can’t thank you enough,” Megan said when she’d finished.

With their purchases in hand, Faith and Megan walked to the front door together.

“I’d better get back to work,” Faith told the younger woman.

“Me, too. I work at the frame shop on Harbor. If you ever need anything framed, please let me know.”

“I will, thank you.” Faith almost mentioned that her son, Scottie, had recently had something framed at that very shop. But it was best for her emotional health not to encourage a relationship with Troy’s daughter, so she walked away after a simple goodbye.

Ten

Teri Polgar hadn’t heard from her sister in well over a week. A year ago that wouldn’t have been unusual. They rarely saw each other regularly until last summer, when things between them had started to improve. They’d had their share of differences; still did. But despite their difficult history, family was important to Teri. She and Johnny, her younger brother, were close. More and more, Teri found reasons to keep in touch with Christie, too.

A week without any form of communication from Christie wasn’t typical these days. What bothered her more was that Christie hadn’t returned any of her phone calls. Teri knew her sister wasn’t shy about sharing her feelings. If Teri had done something to upset her, Christie would’ve let her know. All Teri could come up with was Christie’s ongoing determination to avoid James.

“Bobby, I’m going shopping.” She didn’t say for what. Bobby didn’t concern himself with budgets. He had enough money for all their wants and needs; that was the only thing that mattered on the financial front. His life revolved around chess—and her. He was a master chess player, one of the world’s best. He’d always watched over her with vigilance, and now that she was pregnant, Bobby doted on her even more than usual.

He barely glanced up from the computer screen. “I’ll call James.”

“Bobby, no. I can drive to Wal-Mart on my own.”

The look he cast her was filled with doubt and worry.

She sighed. “Oh, all right.” It was easier to acquiesce than to argue. Bobby was far too protective, but how could she complain when he loved her so much? Ridiculous though it was to have a driver when she’d been driving all by herself since she was sixteen years old, she knew it set Bobby’s mind at rest.

Within five minutes James, who lived on the property, had the car parked in front of the house, waiting for Teri. He stood by the passenger door formally dressed in his black suit and billed cap.

When Teri was first married to Bobby, she felt embarrassed to have a car and driver, especially in a town the size of Cedar Cove. However, she’d grown accustomed to it, and apparently so had everyone else. No one commented on it—not to her, anyway.

As she approached the vehicle, James held the passenger door open.

“Thank you, James,” she said as he helped her inside.

He stepped around the vehicle and climbed into the driver’s seat. “Where to, Miss Teri?”

No matter how many times she asked him to drop the Miss, which made her sound like a preschool teacher, James persisted. After all these months she’d finally given up.

“I’d like to go to Wal-Mart, James.”

His back stiffened ever so slightly. “Wal-Mart, Miss?”

“You heard me.” Teri couldn’t quite restrain a smile. James knew very well that Christie was currently employed as a cashier at the local Wal-Mart.

“Right away, miss.”

Teri relaxed in the luxurious leather seat as she listened to the soothing music coming from the speakers. “What are you playing, James?” she asked.

“Vivaldi, miss. The Four Seasons.”

She nodded. “I like it.”

James preferred classical and used his own CDs. Early on, she’d requested he find a country-western radio station instead, and to his credit, he’d done so. Only when she saw him insert cotton balls in his ears did she stop requesting anything other than the classical music he chose. She’d come to see beauty in it and not boredom.

She was fond of James, more than fond; she now considered him a friend, although she let him impose the limits on their friendship. She also felt he was perfect for her sister.

The problem was that Christie was so closemouthed about the relationship. James was even worse. The two of them were equally adept at keeping secrets.

When they pulled into the Wal-Mart lot, she saw dozens of cars circling, searching for a parking space. Christmas shoppers were out in full force, although it was a midweek afternoon and still early in the month.

“James, do you have plans for Christmas?” Teri asked curiously. She knew so little about him.

“Plans? No, Miss Teri.”

“You won’t be traveling anywhere to visit family or friends?”

“No, miss.”

She forged ahead. “I hope you’ll join Bobby and me, then.”

He hesitated.

“No need for a response just yet,” she assured him. “The invitation is open.”

“Thank you, miss.”

He parked by the front entrance, leaped out and came around to open her door.

“Give me an hour, James.”

“Yes, Miss Teri.”

She walked into the store, receiving curious looks and hearing a few veiled whispers. Okay, so maybe not everyone in town was accustomed to seeing her with a driver.

Checking the long row of cashiers, Teri saw Christie in Lane Ten. Without looking, she grabbed a handful of sale items, had a word with the manager and then stood in her sister’s line.

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