Keeping Faith by Cindy Bradford (serial 38)
Chapter 15 Part III
Cindy Bradford
Patrick loved this time of year in the northeast. It was like the whole world had wakened up from the winter’s blast and was now lazily enjoying the warmer days and cool crisps evenings. Besides in May the humidity was low and the mosquitoes hadn’t yet grown to be the size of moths.
“What do you say about a short trip down the coastline? Drive up to Portland and then work our way through the little fishing villages and maybe see a few lighthouses?”
“I would love that Patrick. It’s been years since I’ve seen most of those places.”
“Good. I’ll be here at seven o’clock in the morning. Is that too early?”
“Not for you and the fishermen,” she laughed. “You’re certainly not gaining any points with Peri, taking me away,” she added.
“Tell him we will bring him a toy rat,” he teased. He knew how much she loved the huge, bundle of fur and whiskers.
When Patrick arrived at her house a few minutes before seven o’clock the next morning, Carol met him in her robe.
“Here’s my bag, Patrick. I just need to dress.”
He put his hands inside her robe, feeling her soft naked skin. “I guess we could just stay here,” he smiled, running his fingers over her body.
“Oh, no you don’t! We’re going on a trip.”
“Well, it was worth a try,” he grinned, while bending over to rub Peri’s neck. “You be a good boy and watch the house.”
As they were driving out of her driveway, Patrick said, “We will probably be in Portland by 10:30 or 11:00 a.m. Have you been to the Windsor Museum of Art?”
“No, I haven’t. I understand it has some nice impressionist and post-impressionist works there. One of Renoir’s portraits is there.”
“I need to run a quick errand when I get to Portland, so could I drop you at the museum? I’ll only be a couple of hours.”
“Certainly, but what kind of errand?”
“Oh, the church has an account at the Portland First Trust Bank and I’ve needed to close it out. This would be a good time,” he said, needing an excuse for his real errand.
“On the way back, can we stop at Damariscotta on the river?” Carol asked.
“Sure, whatever is fine.”
“First let’s stop at some of the antique shops in Wiscasset.”
“That sounds fun,” Patrick said. “Then I’d like to see Pemaquid Light. Maybe we could spend the night at New Harbor. I guess it depends on how much time we spend looking and shopping. Wherever we are when it gets late will be fine with me. Nothing will be really crowded for another three weeks.”
Patrick drove to the square in Portland where the art museum was located. “I’ll be back shortly. Enjoy!” he told Carol.
When he arrived at the jewelry store, he introduced himself to the man who greeted him at the door.
“Hello, my name is Patrick O’Brien. Are you Mr. Frost?”
“Yes, you called, right?”
“You’re holding some engagement rings for me. I need to select one and have it wrapped.”
“Yes, yes, here they are Mr. O’Brien. I have this one carat marquise, in a cathedral solitaire setting; a very elegant ring. Then, I have this pear shape with a six prong V-tip setting, adding it to the velvet tray.
“I don’t like that one. It’s not feminine enough.”
“Look at this emerald cut. It is near colorless and the clarity is excellent. It is, however, closer to 1.5 carats, but its simplicity is intriguing.”
“Would you show me a wedding band that goes nicely with that?”
“Surely.” He returned with a small band that included ten emerald cut diamonds, channel set.
“I like this set very much.”
“Let me show you one more–an oval shape. This is an outstanding diamond with an elliptically shaped bezel. It is 1.5 carats also.”
“I still like the emerald shape the best.”
After they discussed price, Patrick said, “I’d like to give her the engagement ring tonight as a surprise. If she would rather have another design, can we exchange it in the morning?”
“Certainly. Are you nervous?” the jeweler said, noticing the beads of perspiration on Patrick’s forehead.
“A little,” Patrick replied, smiling. “Should I take the band now or wait?”
“Your choice, but you may exchange either or both or whatever in the morning.”
“Okay. Please wrap the engagement ring and I’ll just take the wedding band with me.”
“Done.”
Handing the small package to Patrick, the jeweler smiled and said, “Good luck and best wishes.”
The purchase had not taken as much time as Patrick thought it might so when he arrived at the museum; Carol was still strolling along, looking at the paintings.
“Hey, are you having fun?”
She turned, “Oh, you scared me. I wasn’t expecting you back so soon, but I’m almost finished.”
“Do you want to have a bowl of clam chowder?”
Carol nodded her head, “That sounds good. I’m hungry.”
“Let’s drive to the waterfront. We could take a boat ride after that,” Patrick said, feeling relieved that the ring purchase was over.
“I made a reservation for 6:30 at Michael’s Dockside Restaurant; I hope that’s okay.”
“Patrick, you are so thoughtful and fun. I’m happy with whatever you choose.”
“You make my life so rich, so much bigger, Carol,” pulling her close to him as they walked by the numerous souvenir shops that lined the street by the waterfront.
“Look Patrick, over there,” pointing to a group of street vendors. “Let’s look at the paintings.”
Carol bent down to better inspect a small canvas lined with tiny seagulls and long stretches of blue sea. “Isn’t that good?”
“Not as good as yours,” he whispered, careful not to let the artist overhear.
“But look at the detail.”
“If you want the painting, let’s get it.”
“We can look around some more. I just thought it was especially eye catching. Maybe because it was small, but effectual.”
He took her hand and they strolled through the maze of vendors, each trying to persuade tourists to stop and take a look.
“Are you ready for dinner?”
“Yes, I’m famished. You wouldn’t let me have anything but chowder.”
His eyes lit up. “I didn’t want you to ruin your dinner.”
Michael’s Dockside featured elegant dining, but it also attracted many of the locals to its friendly bar overlooking the water. The crowd was eclectic with people of all ages, dressed in every manner of clothing.
Patrick chose the formal dining room. The maître d’ checked his notes and seated them in a small, romantic alcove overlooking the water. Patrick had been very insistent when he made the reservation, reiterating that this was a special occasion, requiring a romantic, quiet setting. Patrick discretely handed him a substantial tip.
“This is perfect,” he said, pulling out the chair for Carol.
“What a pretty view. You picked a nice time of the year, before the crowds start growing, Patrick.”
“I’ve only been here a few times, but it’s always nice it seems this time of year. Do you want seafood?”
“Yes. Any seafood.”
“I’m having the lazy man lobster, I think.”
“That sounds good to me. I really like it, but I hate all the messy work when the lobster is in the shell. I like the thought of the work being done for me.”
“Let’s have a drink first.” He signaled for the server.
“Don’t you wonder about all these people, where they go in these boats, what their lives are like?”
“You are a people watcher, aren’t you, Carol?”
“Yes, I suppose I am. I find it all so interesting.” Her look was almost plaintive as her eyes scanned the water.
“I find you, oh so interesting,” he said, unable to wait any longer. “I have a small gift for you,” handing her the wrapped box.
“Why, for me now?”
“You’ll see,” he said, with a hint of nervousness in his voice.
Carol opened the wrapping carefully and then lifted the lid.
Taking her hand, he squeezed tightly and said, “Will you spend the rest of your life with me, Carol? Will you marry me?”
“Oh, Patrick, it is so beautiful. Yes, yes, and yes!” she said as tears ran down her cheeks. He felt tears welling up in his eyes as well.
“I never expected this. When did you do this?”
“When I ran my so-called bank errand this morning, I had to tell you something. I had called the jeweler two weeks ago and I’ve been trying to work out all the logistics of this,” as he pulled her closer and kissed her softly.
“I love the design of the ring. I can’t believe you did this by yourself.”
“The jeweler said you could exchange it in the morning if you would like to look at others.”
“I wouldn’t consider that. This is so special. I love you so very much.”
Patrick pulled the matching wedding band from his pocket. “Do you like this for the band?”
“It is beautiful, too. I’m so excited; Patrick, I’m not sure I can eat.”
“You’ll settle down in a few minutes, but I must admit I’m pretty keyed-up, myself.” A shy smile flickered on his face.
“Can we go back in the morning and pick out a band for you?”
“Sure, I’d like that. When would you like the wedding?”
“Soon, as soon as possible, but it will take some planning. Do you think August would be good?”
“You’re the bride, you get to pick. I just have to show up,” he teased.
“I can’t wait to call Nancy. I would like for her to be my matron of honor. Oh, I am so excited.”
“I need to call John, my oldest brother, to be my best man. But first, I must call to talk to your parents. I want to ask for their permission. What do you think they will say?”
“Hallelujah, our old maid daughter is finally getting married,” she said, laughing. “Seriously, they will be happy for us both. I’ve told them quite a bit about you on the phone. My father would like you better if you played golf, though.”
“I’ll learn,” he said, chuckling. In a serious voice he said, “I hope my mother can come to the wedding. Her MS seems to get worse by the day. The trip may be too much for her, but I hope not.”