Gone with the Wool (13 page)

One of the docents had stopped next to me and was speaking to the gathered group. “Warm air makes the monarchs more active,” she explained.

There was no need for me to babysit my group here, and I began to look around at the flow of people coming down the driveway. It was impossible to miss Cora and Madeleine Delacorte. Cora didn't know the meaning of casual and wore a suit under a coat and low heels. As always, she carried her handbag Queen Elizabeth–style. Madeleine made an odd contrast. Up until recently, she'd dressed just like her younger sister, down to the green eye shadow. But then she'd gone rogue and fallen in love with jeans. I'm sure Cora was horrified by her sister's black jeans and fleece jacket. When I looked down and saw I had on a similar outfit, I realized I might have been the inspiration.

When I noticed Cora and Madeleine had the rest of the Butterfly Queen committee with them, I understood they were there on official duty. The Princess Court followed the two women like a line of ducklings. I surveyed the group as they reached the center of the Sanctuary. Chloe had done another hair color change—underneath her tiara, her dark hair now had an orange tint. I wondered if she thought the very fitted black tracksuit with
hot
written across the back of the pants was more appropriate than her previous midriff-baring outfit.

The committee and the princesses gathered around a docent while some of the other volunteers brought out a couple of lawn chairs and a large covered bucket and set them up near the group. Cora stepped forward and began to speak to the crowd.

“Butterfly Queen is more than a ceremonial title. Our queen has to be a monarch of the monarchs. All week, the Princess Court will be led through the paces of the queen's jobs, so the committee can evaluate who truly should have the title.”

The docent came forward and explained how they tracked the butterflies and the need to mark them. She sat in one of the lawn chairs and reached in the bucket to demonstrate. I was surprised to see her hand come out holding a monarch by the wings. She examined the butterfly's wings first and determined it hadn't been marked, then used a marker to make an
X
mark on the wing. She looked to the line of princesses. “Not only will the queen be a regular docent here at the Sanctuary, it will be her job to help mark and keep track of the butterflies during their stay.”

I heard someone calling my name—well, a shortened version of it. Sammy was the only one who called me Case.

“There she is,” he said. I saw his parents walking behind him. “I told you we'd run into her.”

I smiled at his parents, who looked like they wished they were anywhere but there. It made me chuckle inside to see that they both wore beige fleece jackets with
Cadbury by the Sea
embossed on them.

Sammy came over and gave me a big hug and kiss. I knew it was for his parents' benefit, but he was also taking advantage of the moment. I thought that moment had gone unnoticed by anyone other than his parents, but when Sammy let go, Chloe, in all her orange-haired glory, was standing near me. “Does my brother know about this?” She pointed an accusing finger at me and Sammy. She seemed about to say more, but then she made an exasperated sound and went back to her place at the end of the line.

“What did she mean?” Estelle said, glaring at me.

Sammy stepped in and tried to smooth things over, saying it was just a misunderstanding. His father chimed in a moment later. “It didn't look like a misunderstanding to me.”

Time to make a getaway. I pretended that Lucinda had waved for me to join her. “I'm sure Sammy told you that I'm here with my group and they need me.” Before I escaped in the crowd, I gave them each an awkward hug and said how glad I was to have seen them. When I did join Lucinda and looked back to where they'd been standing, I saw that they were gone.

The group had seen their share of monarchs and heard enough of their story and seemed ready to move on. The docents had begun to have the princesses try their hand at examining and marking the monarchs. Chloe had positioned herself at the end of the line of princesses. I wondered if she
would make a run for it before it was her turn. I couldn't help it; I wanted to see what Chloe would do, so I stalled them.

One by one they took their turns: Crystal's daughter, Marcy; Wanda's sister; and the other young women. They were all awkward at the job, and most of the monarchs escaped their grasp. Chloe kept moving up in line, and her mouth was locked in a defiant slash.

I heard some muttering in the crowd when her turn came. I wasn't sure if it had to do with her being the chief person of interest in Rosalie's death or just that she was so out of sync with the rest of the court. She stepped up and looked over at the crowd, not letting go of the tough expression. She dipped her hand in the bucket and came up with a butterfly. The docent started telling her what to do next.

“I got it covered,” Chloe said. She held on to the butterfly and examined its wings. Then she took the marker and made a mark before letting the butterfly go. “Nailed it,” she said, holding her arms up in a triumphant manner.

“Maybe she did,” Lucinda said, standing next to me. “But I don't think it won her any points.”

I waved the group over, and we headed back to the bus. “Next stop, Grand Street,” I said, taking my seat in the front. Lucinda was sitting next to me as we began the short drive to the main street in Cadbury.

“I don't know what to say to Tag,” she said. “Why would he go behind my back and add calamari to the menu and while I was gone meet up with a fisherman to arrange for his catch?” I was relieved she sounded less upset than before and suggested that maybe she ought to just let it be until after the retreat. She didn't give any indication if she agreed.

After a very short ride, the bus let us off. Each day Grand
Street seemed busier with all the added tourists. Cadbury had strict rules about what stores they would and wouldn't allow. There were no big-box stores or even chains. As a result, the downtown area was reminiscent of the past, which made it very appealing.

The group followed me down the side street that sloped toward the water. When they saw the bungalow-style house with Cadbury Yarn sign, I heard a number of people comment on how charming it was. They eagerly trooped inside.

“This was such a good idea,” Lucinda said, stopping next to me as we reached the main room. “That must be what we're going to be making,” she said, pointing out the crocheted monarchs that were hanging all over the store. A table in the front was stacked with kits and a sign that said
MAKE AND TAKE
.

Like in the rest of the town, there was more business than usual in the yarn store. Small groupings of chairs were spread among the cubbies of yarn, and most of them were full of people working on making butterflies.

When Gwen had first suggested I bring the group in to learn how to crochet a butterfly, it seemed like the perfect activity, since it had both yarn and butterflies in it. There had been some grumbling when the retreaters first saw it on the schedule, though. Most of them didn't know how to crochet and seemed baffled by it. The Danish women were the only ones who were really proficient. I reminded the group that I put on yarn retreats, not just knitting retreats. I remembered from my substitute teaching days how the kids had balked at anything new. I figured it had something to do with the fear of not being able to do it, but Gwen had assured me she'd be able to teach them.

Crystal came into the main room and greeted the group before taking us back to what was once the dining room. It looked out on a tiny yard, which was filled with native plants, or at least that was how the townspeople always described them. It was certainly nicer than calling them weeds. They were green, and they thrived.

“Everyone find a seat,” Crystal said, indicating the folding chairs that had been set up in the bright room. “You'll find a kit on your chair.”

There was a buzz of conversation as they all started looking through the small shopping bags. Gwen had given me a pre-lesson, so I knew the bags had a couple of crochet hooks, small hanks of yarn in the monarch colors of orange and black, a tapestry needle and some written instructions.

I looked around, expecting Gwen to come in and start the lesson. “I don't know what's keeping my mother,” Crystal said. “I can start, but this is really her thing.”

It was easy for Crystal to get their attention. She had on several layers of shirts in deep pink, orange and purple, with the bottoms showing over one another. Different-shaped earrings dangled from her ears, and as usual, she'd pulled off wearing heavy eye makeup without looking like a clown.

Lucinda was listening along with everyone else as Crystal had them take out some yarn and make a slip knot, but she still looked distracted. I knew she was probably ruminating about the calamari and I wished I had said nothing. I had thought she would be relieved that his inner turmoil was about seafood. I was certainly wrong.

I glanced back toward the main part of the store. Gwen had hired extra help for the week, and a woman I didn't know was ringing up sales. Marcy was helping with customers,
too. She was wearing her princess crown—she must have come to the store when she'd finished with her Butterfly Princess duties. It was amazing what a big deal this week was in Cadbury. The kids even had it off from school.

I finally returned to the front and asked Marcy about her grandmother's whereabouts. “She's in the storage room,” Marcy said, pointing to a door. I pushed it open and went in, expecting to see Gwen gathering up some extra stock. Instead, she was standing very close to a man, and they seemed in such deep conversation that she didn't notice my presence.

I got a side view of him, so all I could really see was that he had shaggy dark hair and wore faded jeans with a work shirt tucked in. I finally cleared my throat to announce my presence. Gwen's head shot up with a worried expression.

“The lesson!” she said, seeming to suddenly remember. “Go on back in the store. I'll be with you in a moment.” She had moved to further block my view of the man with her.

I followed her order and stood outside the door to the back room, expecting them both to exit. I was totally surprised to see only her come out.

“Where's your friend?” I blurted out, trying to see back into the room before the door slid shut.

Gwen was so different than her daughter. There was an impassive quality about her, and her face showed no emotional response to my question. “I don't know what you mean.”

I knew that I wasn't crazy and that there had been someone in there with her. I pushed the door back open and looked inside. The storage room was empty, but I noticed there was another door.

Why was Gwen being so secretive? Was he a secret boyfriend? It made me wonder what a date would be like for someone her age. It was kind of like imagining my mother
on a date. Did flirting change when you got older? The whole image was unsettling, and I gladly pushed it out of my mind.

Gwen didn't say a word, and I followed her back to the group. Crystal had taught them the stitches they needed for the monarchs but gladly stepped aside for her mother to take over.

Lucinda seemed to be distracted and was just holding her crochet hook and staring off in space. Finally, she laid down her work and came over to where I was standing.

“I can't take it. I have to confront Tag about the calamari.” She pulled on her Ralph Lauren jacket and headed for the door. Lucinda had helped me out of some difficult situations before, so I rushed after her, hoping to help her this time.

Over at the Blue Door, lunch was just finishing up. Sammy and his parents were at a table by the window. He waved wildly when I came in and went to pull out a chair. “Case, you made it for lunch,” he said, as if we'd had some plan. I snagged Lucinda's arm to keep her from rushing up to Tag alone. We stopped at their table, and I introduced her as my boss.

“Remember, Case makes all the desserts,” Sammy said proudly. He went on about how they sold out all the time. His father glanced toward the counter, where the chocolate cakes were on display. Only one piece was missing.

“I don't know what's going on,” his father began. “But your mother and I know you're keeping something from us. She's working two jobs; you seem to have time on your hands. And that tiny little house. Is she supporting you? Are you even working in a urology practice?”

Lucinda pulled free. “I have to talk to Tag.”

I left Sammy to tell his parents whatever he could come up with as I followed along behind Lucinda. “It's only a menu addition,” I said.

“That's where it starts. Who knows what he'll do next? He is so different than the boy I knew in high school.”

Tag was talking to one of the waitstaff when Lucinda rushed up to him.

I still questioned if all that hair was really his. The thick brown mop looked almost like a wig.

“You can't go adding calamari to the menu without consulting me.”

“What about calamari?” Tag said. Then his face brightened. “I'm so glad to see you.” He said the same to me. I tried to intercede to give Lucinda a moment to calm down and told him the group was crocheting butterflies.

“It's monarchs everywhere,” he said. “Sit, you two. How about some coffee or food?”

Lucinda seemed a little calmer when she sat down. “Casey told me all about the fisherman. I know you're trying to order calamari.”

Tag seemed totally baffled. He turned to me. “When did you see me making a deal for calamari?”

Lucinda answered for me. “Last night. You've been acting strange for weeks,” she said. “I told Casey about it, and then she said she saw you talking to the fisherman and thought there was a connection.”

Tag swallowed so hard his Adam's apple bounced. “There is absolutely nothing for you to be concerned about. Everything is fine. There was no fisherman and no order for his squid catch.”