The Stitching Hour (20 page)

W
hen I got up on Thursday morning, I heard Mom messing around downstairs. From the scents of bacon and maple wafting up the stairs, I deduced she was making breakfast. I quickly showered, dressed, and joined her in the kitchen.

“Good morning, darling,” she said.

“Hi. Are you feeling better?”

“I am. I made you pancakes, eggs, and bacon. Angus has already had his bacon and eggs and is outside. He also enjoyed half of the banana I put on my oatmeal.”

“Mom, you had oatmeal, and you made me all this?” I gestured toward the table.

“Well, it isn't
all
for you. I invited Ted, but he can't get away. So I asked Todd to come by. He should be here—”

Before she could finish her sentence, the doorbell rang.

“Come on in!” she called.

Todd came in, strode into the kitchen, and swept Mom up into a hug. “Good morning, ladies! Thanks for thinking of me, Ms. Singer.”

“You're welcome. You two go ahead and sit down.”

Todd and I sat down at the table, and like siblings, reached for the same pancake.

“I'm the guest,” he said.

“I'm the girl. Guys are always supposed to defer to the girl.”

“Well, if you want that giant pancake on your hips . . .”

I glared at him. “Fine. Take it.”

“Oh, no. Go ahead.”

“Children.” Mom stood with her hands on her hips looking at us. “There's enough to go around.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

Todd and I spoke in unison, and then laughed.

“So how are you feeling, Ms. Singer?” he asked.

“Much better . . . and it's Beverly. Ms. Singer makes me sound old.” She got herself some coffee and joined us at the table. “Did you know that Marcella actually called and told on me to Alfred last night?”

Todd looked at me. “Tattletale.”

I poked my tongue out at him and then poured syrup on my pancake—the one
under
the one Todd had claimed. “I just wanted to find out if anything like that had happened before. You know you wouldn't tell me if it had, Mom.”

“I wouldn't want you to worry . . . especially not right now when you're getting ready to celebrate the Seven-Year Stitch's anniversary.” She sipped her coffee. “But nothing like that
has
happened to me before. And I'm sure I'll get a clean bill of health from the cardiologist.”

“I should take off and go with you to that appointment,” I said.

“No, you should not. I promise I'll tell you if anything's wrong.” She turned to Todd. “Do you argue like this with your parents?”

“Of course. It's an adult child's job. It keeps you guys on your toes.”

“Gee, thanks. So our children are trying to keep our old minds sharp, is that it?”

Todd looked at me. “I did not say that. Now I see where you get it.”

I smirked at him.

“By the way, Todd, I'm sorry about Keira,” Mom said. “I know the two of you weren't together anymore and that you'd both moved on, but it still must've been quite a shock for you when she died.”

“It was. Thank you.”

My mind raced. Had I even thought of Todd during this ordeal? Not really. Not as someone who had dated Keira in the past. Granted, they'd dated only casually and just a time or two, but she'd been crazy about him.

Todd silently read the expressions flitting across my face and winked. “Now aren't you glad you let me have the biggest pancake?”

“Yes.” I pushed my plate over. “You can even have the rest of mine.”

He pushed it back. “No, thanks. I don't want your cooties.”

Mom laughed. “You two are impossible.”

I had a sudden thought. “Did Keira's dad ever try to invest in the Brew Crew?”

“He bought a couple of beers one night. Does that count?”

“No.” I explained Adalyn's tale about Jared wanting to expand his business. “Given Mr. Sherman's penchant for trying to get people to franchise, I thought he might've approached you.”

“Not me. And I'm glad of it given everything I'm hearing about him now. Besides, I've always been a stand-on-my-own-two-feet kinda guy.”

“Me too. I mean, I told Adalyn I was happy with the Seven-Year Stitch the way it is now and that I didn't see myself expanding anytime soon.”

“What did she say to that?” Mom asked.

“She said that I might change my mind whenever I decided to have a family.”

Todd shrugged. “She's got a point. As nice as Jill is, I don't think she'd be the world's best nanny.”

I had a fleeting thought of my mannequin turning into Mary Poppins.

“Maybe by then, I'll be ready to give up showbiz,” said Mom.

“I doubt that.” I dug back into my pancake before realizing Todd and Mom were staring at the top of my head. “What?”

“Is there some news you'd like to share with the rest of us?” Todd asked.

“No, there isn't.” I simply couldn't see Mom ready to give up show business before I was ready to have a child. In fact, I couldn't see Mom
ever
ready to give up her career.

•   •   •

Mom, Angus, and I barely had time to get into the Stitch before actors started coming in. The young man who was afraid of dogs basically said hello and left. But the others lingered. In the sit-and-stitch square. For hours.

Priscilla and Claude came in wearing matching black tuxedos. At first, they acted as if they were disappointed that their actors had come over to “bother Ms. Singer” and were going to herd them back up the street, but then they joined the party. Priscilla stood at the prime spot to Mom's right until the girl sitting there moved and let her boss have her seat. The girl promptly plopped onto the floor at Mom's feet.

While I waited on customers, Mom entertained the neighbors with Hollywood anecdotes. I heard snatches of conversations now and then, but mostly I restocked bins and waited on needle crafters. I'd been afraid all the attention would wear Mom out, but she seemed to be really enjoying herself.

When they all finally left, I asked Mom if she'd found any budding talents among the actors.

“Maybe,” she said. “I told them I'd keep my eyes open, and I steered them toward some reputable agencies.”

“That's good.”

“Yeah.” She brushed at the sleeve of her sweater. I didn't see any hair or lint there, so I wasn't sure what she was doing. Finally, she spoke again. “Does Tallulah Falls have a community theater?”

“Probably. If not, I'm sure there's one not terribly far from here. Why? Are you thinking the actors need more practice?”

“No, I was thinking about what you said this morning at breakfast about starting a family . . . How you felt like that would happen long before I retire.”

I sat down beside her. “And?”

She shrugged but still didn't meet my eyes. “I don't know. I wouldn't want to miss spending time with my grandchild while I was off on first one movie set and then another. I made that mistake when you were growing up.”

“I think I had a terrific childhood.”

“Still. . . . Maybe the other night was a wake-up call. Maybe it's time to start thinking about retirement.”

“Mom, that would destroy you,” I said. “I saw what a wonderful time you were having with those actors. You need that in your life.”

“But I need you too.”

I took her hand. “And you've got me. You'd never be happy doing community theater.”

“I might.”

She looked at me, and I arched a brow.

“Or I might not,” she admitted. “But I'd be willing to give it a try.”

“You're really concerned about your health, aren't you?”

“No. I'm worried that I won't be here for you when you need me.” She quickly corrected herself. “I don't mean
be here
as in living. I mean
be here
as in Tallulah Falls.”

“You've always been around when I needed you, Mom. And you always will be.”

She smiled softly and lowered her eyes.

“And I want to be there for you,” I continued. “Let me go with you to the doctor when you get back home. Or let me make an appointment for you with a cardiologist here in Oregon. Then you'll at least have a better idea of your condition.”

She shook her head. “I'm fine, darling. I think I'd know if there was something wrong with my heart. And I think the ER doctor would too. Had she suspected anything truly serious, she'd have either kept me in the hospital or referred me to a cardiologist right away. She wouldn't have advised me to wait until I got back home.”

“Fair enough. Then why are you so down today?”

“I don't know. I guess I just don't want to miss anything,” she said. “I mean, I know you have your own life, but—”

“You won't miss a thing, Mom. I promise.”

I was really glad that Ted came in with lunch and put an end to our awkward chat. I didn't like to see Mom melancholy. It was so out of character for her. Had my leaving San Francisco last year taken such a toll on her? I didn't think so. She'd been here to visit several times—and I'd been home to visit too—and we'd both been busy with our work. Was she more scared about her health than she wanted to admit? Or had something that she, Vera, and Veronica talked about yesterday reminded her of how fast time was flying past?

I rose to greet Ted with a kiss. Then I put the clock on the door and suggested that we move into my office before any more of Mom's fans came to visit.

“I take it you've been mobbed by actors today?” he asked.

“Yes. They were all really sweet though,” she said. “I enjoyed talking with them.”

For today's lunch, Ted brought cedar plank grilled salmon and green beans. It was delicious.

“We should have this more often,” I told him. I turned to Mom. “We have salads and chicken salad croissants from MacKenzies' Mochas fairly often, but this salmon is a really nice change.”

“I was afraid it'd be cold by the time I got here with it. It came from that seafood place we like in Lincoln City.” He nodded toward Mom. “We'll all go there before you leave, if you'd like—you, Marcy, Mom and me.”

“That'd be nice. I really like your mother. We had a lovely time yesterday.”

“She said she enjoyed it too.” He glanced at me, and I knew we'd compare notes later. The bad thing was I didn't have any notes to compare. Mom had said very little about yesterday.

I fed Angus a small bite of my salmon.

“I spent the morning with one of your favorite people,” Ted told me.

“Nellie Davis?” I asked.

He laughed. “No. Mark Poston.”

I explained to Mom that Detective Poston had been called in to help with the investigation since so many people were in the area when Keira was found.

“Plus, he questioned those of us who were together that evening and recorded our statements,” Ted said. “Marcy found him to be rather harsh.”

“Ted says he's one of the best interrogators with the Tallulah County Police Department, but I don't think he's ever heard the old adage about catching flies with honey.”

Ted grinned. “He's not catching flies, babe. He's catching criminals. And he's doing a good job getting information about the people Ken Sherman is in business with.”

“Has he found any evidence to support the suspicion that Ken Sherman is laundering money for criminals?” I asked.

“You know I'm not at liberty to say.”

I smiled. “I know. I just want this case to be solved.”

“So do I. But I know your Mom doesn't want to hear shop talk.”

“You should've heard
her
shop talk this morning.” I looked over at Mom. “Did you watch the Atwoods' DVD before you went to bed last night?”

“No. I wanted to wait and watch it with you.”

“I'd love to talk with Captain Moe about Priscilla and see what she was like growing up,” I said.

“Maybe you can ask him tomorrow,” said Mom.

I shook my head. “He has to be at the diner tomorrow night and can't come to the open house. I gave him his goodie bag yesterday. But I'm sure I'll get the opportunity to talk with him soon.”

We finished our meal and walked out of the office. Mom and I thanked Ted for bringing lunch, and I noticed that Christine Willoughby was standing outside on the sidewalk.

I hurried to the door. “Christine! Hi! Come on in.”

“I can come back if this isn't a good time.” She twisted her scarf in her hands.

“No. We were just in the back eating lunch. You should've come on in.”

“I didn't want to intrude.”

“I'm just leaving.” Ted kissed my cheek, nodded to Christine, and gave Mom a brief wave before stepping out onto the sidewalk.

“Christine, I don't think you've met my mom, Beverly Singer.”

The two women shook hands.

“It's nice to meet you,” Mom said.

“Then, obviously, Marcy hasn't told you about me.”

I ushered Christine over to the sit-and-stitch square. “Don't be silly. Mom and I both have been in the position you're in right now, and we know it's no fun.”

“And we also know that you'll be exonerated.”

“Thank you. I wish I could be that sure.” Christine sighed. “I came by to tell you that I'd still love to come to class tonight, but I understand perfectly if you'd rather I skip it.”

“Of course I want you to come to class! Why wouldn't I?”

“Because I'm a suspect in a murder case.”

“Please, Christine, I know you're innocent,” I said.

“The police don't think so.”

“Ted always tells me that everyone's a suspect, but I don't think they give you any more weight than anyone else currently under investigation in Keira's homicide.” I placed my hand on Christine's arm. “Just be patient. Ted and Manu are wonderful detectives. They'll find the real killer.”