Clare O’Donohue - The Lover’s Knot

In the driveway, Marc had turned on the headlights of his truck. He waved at me. I waved back. "I'm going to clean up here before I leave," he called, gesturing toward the pile of old roof tiles that littered the front lawn.

"Thanks," I said, and held up the flowers. He smiled and I smiled back, then closed the door. I don't know why I'd reacted so strongly to Marc. He hadn't really done anything but remind me that I was easily spooked, and even more easily embarrassed.

I grabbed the flowers and brought them inside. I couldn't put them in a vase. If my grandmother saw that someone was picking through her flowers, she wouldn't be happy about it. But I didn't want to throw them out either. I took them into my bedroom and put them on the nightstand. I lay on the bed and stared at them for a while, then I turned my attention to the ceiling.

Tomorrow was Sunday, and that meant going home. If I took the 4:40 train back tomorrow afternoon, I'd be in Manhattan around 6:30 p.m. and at my apartment no later than seven. I would have survived a whole weekend without talking to Ryan.

But going back meant going to work and either seeing him, or spending the day only a few floors away and not seeing him. Neither option exactly thrilled me.

I had to come up with some kind of game plan for what I would say if I saw him. I had to figure out my response to any messages he might have left on my voice mail. If he left messages on my voice mail.

And it also meant finding a place to live. I couldn't afford the place Ryan and I had planned to move into together, and my apartment had already been re-rented.

It was too much to think about, so I did the only thing I could think of-I went to sleep.

I was standing in my wedding dress, looking down the aisle at the church. It seemed like the aisle went on for miles. I looked around, but none of my bridesmaids were with me, and that was a bit annoying. Why couldn't they be on time for my wedding? I didn't know whether I should just go ahead and walk down the aisle by myself or wait for everyone else.

I took a few steps and stopped. I couldn't make out who was at the end of the aisle. Was it Ryan? It looked like Ryan, but not completely. The man at the end of the aisle had lighter hair. Maybe. It was hard to tell. Should I walk down the aisle or not? I walked back to my starting point. I didn't know what to do. Hopefully someone would get here soon and tell me.

I heard a phone ring. My parents, maybe, or my maid of honor. I looked around, but I couldn't find a phone, and when I looked up the aisle to the altar, there was no one there. If I could find the phone maybe someone could explain to me why no one was taking my wedding day seriously.

The phone stopped. I was alone in the church in my wedding dress, and now my flowers were a mess. The beautifully arranged bouquet had become a freshly picked group of flowers tied together with twine. The phone started ringing again. Off in the distance Barney barked. His barking got closer and closer.

I opened my eyes slowly. It was dark outside, I was on the bed and my grandmother's phone was ringing incessantly. I got up, feeling heavy and groggy. There was a phone in the kitchen, so I headed in that direction.

"Hello," I mumbled.

"Nell, dear, it's Nancy. There's been an accident."

I wasn't sure I was awake yet.

"Nell," Nancy said again. The fear in her voice snapped me out of my fog.

"An accident. What happened? Is it my grandmother?"

"She was going downstairs to get needles and she slipped on some fabric on the third stair from the bottom. I called the paramedics."

"I'll be there in a second." I hung up the phone and searched the kitchen for my grandmother's car keys. They weren't here. They had to be here. She hadn't driven to the shop. Okay, I needed to get hold of myself. I could walk to the shop by the time I found the stupid keys.

"Grandma's hurt." I tapped Barney on the head and he jumped up. We both ran out the front door into a rainy night, and into Marc, who was still cleaning up.

"Hey there," he said casually.

"My grandmother fell, at the shop. And I can't find the stupid car keys."

"Hop in." He jumped into the driver's seat of his truck as Barney and I climbed in, sharing the passenger side. "What happened?"

"She slipped on the stairs."

"Those are dangerous stairs."

"I know," I said, more worried than ever.

"How is she?"

"I don't know," I said. In my rush, I hadn't even asked. I took a deep breath and told myself she was fine. She had to be fine.

We were at the shop in less than five minutes. An ambulance, its lights blinking, was parked out front. I jumped out and ran, but Barney passed me by and headed straight into the shop, leaving Marc behind to park.

When I got into the shop, I saw Nancy talking to Maggie, but I couldn't see my grandmother.

"Where is she?" I was frantic.

"She's downstairs," said Maggie calmly. "She's okay. She may have broken her hip, but they aren't sure."

I nodded and took my first deep breath since I'd gotten the call. She's okay. I rushed to the stairs.

At the bottom, my grandmother was being lifted onto a stretcher. Barney was hovering around her. He was getting in the way, but I knew he wasn't going anywhere.

"This is ridiculous," Eleanor told the paramedics as they strapped her onto the stretcher. "You'll never get me up the stairs this way. You'll kill us all."

"Ma'am, we're very experienced."

"You're twenty-three years old, George. When you were five you ran away from home to this store."

"Mrs. Cassidy, I really do know what I'm doing," the paramedic said confidently. "You've broken your leg. We don't know about your hip."

"I can walk."

"Well, you're not going to," he said, rather strongly.

Once I got a good look at him, I had to admit he did look young. And neither he nor the guy with him looked particularly strong. My grandmother might have a better chance walking. But I took their side anyway.

"Let them do what they need to do," I called down.

"Nell," she called, craning her neck to see me. "I'm fine, dear. Tell Nancy to close up the store without me."

"I think she has that covered," I said. I wanted to add, you insane woman. Screw the store. You could be dead at the bottom of these stairs.

The paramedics slowly moved up the steps, one at a time. Each step they pulled her up and the stretcher seemed to sway slightly. Don't drop her, I nearly said out loud, but I didn't.

"Need help, guys?" Marc was suddenly behind me.

"Yeah," said George, straining.

My grandmother wasn't a big woman, but the stairs were steep and Barney was nipping at everyone's heels. Marc walked down and grabbed part of the stretcher.

"Bad day, Eleanor?" he asked with a smile.

"I've had worse."

"That's the spirit, Mrs. Cassidy," George said, smiling.

"Concentrate on getting me up these stairs," she scolded.

In a few minutes they were upstairs and headed out of the shop. Nancy, Maggie and I followed as they put her in the ambulance, while she complained about the fuss. Barney tried to climb in after her, but Marc stopped him.

"Barney, come here," I called out. He couldn't hear me, but when the ambulance pulled away, he came walking over anyway, distraught and confused. I leaned down and wrapped my arms around him.

"She'll be okay," I whispered in his deaf ear.

Marc drove me to the hospital. Nancy and Maggie brought Barney home and then came to join us. Within twenty minutes the other members of the Friday Night Quilt Club had assembled. Susanne and Natalie brought Bernie. Carrie arrived alone but with a thermos of coffee.

"Better than hospital stuff," she said.