While My Pretty One Knits (19 page)

“This one turned out great, Phoebe. I love the blue.”

“Jell-O Berry Blue.” Phoebe glanced over her shoulder a moment to clarify.

“There are a few ways to do this,” Phoebe explained. “You can heat it on the stove or pour hot water into a dye bath. I’m going to mix everything up and zap it in the microwave a few minutes.”

Phoebe had some written instructions on a pad that she referred to and used to explain as she went along. “First, I need to put a few cups of water in the bowl…” She measured about four or five cups of tap water and poured it into a big plastic bowl. “Then some salt,” she said, using a measuring spoon. “Then one pack of your favorite color Jell-O…I’m going to use cherry for this batch.” She opened the Jell-O and poured it in.

“It’s so pretty. And I love the smell,” Maggie remarked.

“Well, this part smells bad. You might want to pinch your nose,” Phoebe warned. “You always need to add some vinegar. To make the color stick or something.” She measured a cup of white vinegar and poured it into the mix.

“Like dyeing Easter eggs,” Suzanne said.

Phoebe mixed the ingredients with a wooden spoon until all the clumps of Jell-O had dissolved. “Now, for the wool.” She took a skein of white yarn she had on hand and dumped in it. “I like to make the color come out uneven, so I let some of it stick up but if you’re a neat freak,” she paused and glanced at Dana, “you can soak it more evenly.”

Phoebe carried the bowl to the microwave and popped it in, then shut the door and set the timer. “I’m going to zap this for about three minutes and then check.”

Phoebe set the timer and they all waited quietly. Amazingly quiet for their group, Lucy thought. Jell-O dyeing had them enthralled.

The microwave beeped and Phoebe took the bowl out. “Hmmm…it’s not soup yet,” she said. She showed it around and they all agreed. She checked her pad and nodded to herself. “I need to let it rest a minute or so before I put it back in. You don’t want it to get too hot.”

“That makes sense,” Maggie said. “This is certainly easier than the stove-top method. If it works.”

“Oh, it works. Don’t worry,” Phoebe promised.

She needed to zap the bowl and let it rest two more times, but true to her word, the skein of yarn finally emerged a scintillating shade of cherry red. Phoebe lifted it from the mixture with the spoon for all to see.

“Wow. That’s beautiful,” Suzanne said.

“Great color,” Lucy agreed.

“The article I read online said you can get some great effects, mooshing the Jell-O directly into the yarn and using different colors on the same skein. But I thought I’d give you just the basics first,” Phoebe said.

“For our next lesson,” Maggie said.

“Okay, next time. I’ll study up,” Phoebe replied. “This needs to cool, then I can hang it to dry.” She put the bowl aside and turned to face the group, wearing a big satisfied grin, Lucy noticed.

“Okay. My work is done here. You guys go inside,” Phoebe told them. “I have to run upstairs a minute.”

Phoebe quickly wiped her hands on some paper towels. She had a splash of red Jell-O on her cheek, Lucy noticed, but it looked sweet. “I have sort of a surprise for you. You can like, wait out in the shop, okay?”

“I think I can
like
guess what’s coming…but I won’t ruin it.” Maggie led the group into the back room.

They dutifully traipsed into the back room, took their usual spots at the oak table, and pulled out their projects. Suzanne was the first to nab Maggie. She pulled out a vest she was making for her husband. Suzanne had abandoned the chulo hat, Lucy noticed, or maybe set it aside for a while. Lucy didn’t blame her. Working in three colors did look challenging. The vest was a much simpler design, slate blue with a darker blue stripe.

Matt looked good in blue, Lucy mused. She could make him a great scarf in that color. Or a sweater…or try spending an evening together first, she reminded herself, before you start planning all the knitting projects you’re going to make him.

“Is it my imagination or are the stripes slanting to one side? Can I fix it when I block it?” Suzanne asked hurriedly, not even waiting for an answer to the first question.

Maggie took the piece and stretched it flat on the table. “It is slanting. Look at that. I think you’d better rip back. Otherwise it’s not going to meet the back section right.”

Suzanne sighed and took her knitting back. “Maybe I’ll just ask Kevin to lean to one side when he wears it. Or it can go in the bottom drawer of his chest, with the rest of my handcrafted presents.”

“Jack wears a few things that I make for him,” Dana said. “It’s hit or miss. I don’t take it personally. I’m sure it’s the same for him, on the nights when he does the cooking.”

“At least he does some cooking. I swear, in my house they’d starve to death if they didn’t call for takeout. I don’t think Kevin even knows how to turn the stove on,” Suzanne complained. They continued to trade complaints about their spouses. Lucy just smiled. That’s why they call it stitch ’n’ bitch, she thought.

There had been some major distractions from stitching this week, for all of them but Lucy was surprised to see Dana had not gotten very far with her flowers. She was the most methodical, efficient, steady-going knitter of the group but tonight she seemed totally frustrated.

“When you’re done straightening her out, Maggie, I really need some help with these freaking flowers. They’re starting to look like…brussels sprouts,” Dana moaned.

Maggie got up and came over to Dana’s side of the table. “Let me see…you’ve got the right gauge yarn, we know that. You’re the only one who got anything out of the Knitting Nest stock,” she added.

“Yes, lucky me.” Dana’s tone was dubious. “I’ve got the right stuff, so that’s no excuse.”

Lucy didn’t understand what Maggie was talking about at first, then remembered. Maggie did have the yarn Dana needed for the flowers on hand at the Black Sheep, but had found some in the Nest stock and given it to Dana before the police took everything else away.

Dana took out her copy of
Felting Fever
and opened to the flower instructions. The photos of the event that Lucy had passed to her flew out on the table and Lucy grabbed them.

“Were the photos any help?” she asked Dana.

“They helped some.” Dana glanced at her. “Thanks for printing them out for me.”

Maggie had been reading the pattern and examining Dana’s efforts. “I think it’s hard to tell until you felt and everything tightens up and shrinks down.”

“I did try one.” Dana dug into her knitting bag. “I was embarrassed to show you, but now that you ask…” She pulled out a small gnarled glob of reddish-orange wool and tossed it on the table. “Look at this gorgeous specimen. Looks like the dog’s breakfast, right?”

Suzanne started laughing. “I’m sorry, Dana. But you said it.”

Lucy could see that Maggie was trying hard to withhold comment. She picked up the felted bud and turned it around in her hand. “Something’s gone wrong here,” she said in a serious tone. Then a small smile broke through for the first time all night. “Terribly, terribly wrong.”

“I know,” Dana agreed. “Look at the flowers on Cara’s coat. I don’t think they started off like this.”

Lucy flipped through the enlargements of Cara’s sweater coat before handing them back, looking closely at the felted button covers. She noticed the jacket was missing a flower, at the bottom. Maybe that one had turned out like Dana’s and Cara plucked it off, Lucy thought.

She passed the pictures over to Dana and Maggie, who were now both studying the project instructions and the photos in the book.

“I think you goofed up when you felted it,” Maggie decided. “Maybe it was in the washer too long…or the action was too strong? Why don’t you finish one more flower and we’ll felt it here, by hand. It will be good practice for me. I want to do a class this spring with the flowers. Handbags and things.”

Dana sighed. “Okay, I’ll give it one more try.”

Lucy picked up the mishapen flower, Dana’s discard. She turned it around in her hand. It looked like something familiar to her…she wasn’t sure what, the image hovering at the edge of her brain.

“Ta-da! Hold your applause, please, until the end of the program.” Phoebe stood in the doorway, carefully carrying what had to be the largest, tallest, multilayered, multicolored Jell-O mold in modern history.

It jiggled and vibrated, threatening to self-combust with Phoebe’s every step. It looked like something the Cat in the Hat might serve for dessert, after green eggs and ham.

It was clearly the ninth wonder of the world, defying every law of engineering. It appeared that Phoebe had ambitiously, and optimistically, used the biggest pot she owned for her mold, one that could comfortably boil three pounds of spaghetti. Or boil a few lobsters. Only someone who had no knowledge of cooking could have put the thing together and expected it to stand upright.

“Sorry I was up there so long. It was stuck in the mold and I didn’t want to break it.”

“Whoa, that’s amazing. I never saw one that high.” Dana stared at it, wide-eyed.

“That must have taken days to make,” Maggie observed.

“A week,” Phoebe confessed. “Two layers a day. One in the morning, one at night.”

“I know I was trash-talking Jell-O molds, but I’m totally impressed.” Suzanne checked the massive dessert from different angles. “I didn’t even know you could cook.”

“I wouldn’t exactly call this cooking. I did mix in some stuff, though. Pineapple chunks. Mini marshmallows. The blue layer has kiwi slices. Don’t they look beautiful? Sort of just floating in outer space or something. I should have put them on top.”

“None of the yarn you were dyeing got in there, I hope,” Maggie teased, pretending to check the layers.

“No…but I did toss in a little plastic baby. You know, like a Mardi Gras king cake? If you find it, you get a wish.”

Maggie pulled up close to the table. “I could use a wish. Give me a big scoop, please.”

Phoebe had brought bowls, teaspoons, a large serving spoon, a tub of low-fat whipped topping, and a squirt can of whipped cream. She served everyone and then herself.

“This is super, Phoebe, thank you.” Lucy took her second bite, savoring the mixture of sweet and tart flavors and surprising ingredients.

“Retro food. It’s making a comeback.” Phoebe took the can of whipped cream and shook it with vigor before covering her entire dish. How did she stay so stalk thin, Lucy wondered. Then she realized this was probably Phoebe’s main meal for the day.

“I used to love this stuff when I was a kid.” Phoebe passed the can to Suzanne. “My brother and I would have whipped cream fights with it in the kitchen.”

“We did that at our house,” Suzanne confessed. “Now I squirt it on Kevin.”

Dana started laughing and ended up coughing up some Jell-O. She covered her mouth with a napkin. “In the kitchen, or the bedroom?”

Suzanne shrugged. “Hey, after three children and seventeen years of marriage, you have to mix it up a little.” She took the can, shook it, and squirted a swirl into her bowl. “They sell this stuff in chocolate now, too. Why did it take so long to figure that out?”

“Jack likes Cool Whip better. He thinks the can is too noisy—ruins the mood.” Dana glanced up quickly, then looked down at her dessert dish again, smiling to herself.

Maggie looked about to reply, then made a funny face. Her mouth twisted and she spit something out in a napkin.

“Look…Maggie got the baby!” Phoebe practically jumped out of her seat. “We have a winner.”

“For goodness sake, I nearly cracked a tooth…” Maggie shook her head, staring at the little rubber toy.

“That a good sign, Maggie,” Suzanne said decisively, though Lucy wondered if Phoebe had fixed the contest.

“Make a wish. Don’t tell us,” Dana added, “or it won’t come true.”

Maggie glanced around at her friends, then carefully placed the little pink plastic baby in the middle of a clean napkin.

“All right, here goes.” She closed her eyes a moment, then opened them and sighed.

Her friends glanced at one another, then continued to finish their Jell-O and whipped topping in silence.

As if by some unspoken pact, no one had mentioned the murder investigation tonight. Bless Phoebe’s pointed little head, Lucy thought, she had successfully distracted them with her zany dyeing technique and her flamboyant dessert.

But they all knew what Maggie’s wish would be. That the police would close the case quickly and her good name in town would be cleared.

Lucy wasn’t sure how other people looked for a relationship and had a full-time job, too. It seemed to her that dating was a job and left little time or mental energy for anything else.

Her new book design project—that crept crawled and squirmed—beckoned. But Lucy had to quit work early on Friday afternoon or she’d never be ready in time for her date with Matt.

As ridiculous as that seemed, it was true.

She had a haircut appointment in town at 4:00 and she required a complete overhaul—from her head down—by then.

It had been a long solitary winter.

Swooping by the value drug mart on the way to the Black Sheep last night, she’d quickly filled a shopping cart with beauty and hygiene products of all descriptions—exfoliators, depilatories, pore cleansers, eye cream that claimed to erase dark circles and lift sagging lids, moisturizer with seaweed extract, teeth-brightening rinse, cover stick, lip gloss, a three-toned pack of eye shadow, and a set of surgical-steel eyebrow tweezers, industrial strength.

Dana had her eyebrows “threaded,” whatever that meant.

And her favorite purchase of all, an overpriced pink plastic razor that excreted soothing lotion as you shaved your legs and promised “to bring out your inner goddess.”

Was she ready for her inner goddess to be outed? That was a good question.

Not that she planned on exposing any significant body parts tonight. But smoothness was important, a psychological edge. Could she really feel sexy, witty, and irresistible knowing she looked like Sasquatch in her underwear? Of course not.

It was like having condoms in the night table drawer. Not that she planned on tearing into any foil packets tonight, but it was something you needed on hand, just in case. Like a box of baking soda next to the stove. Did you plan on having a kitchen fire? Of course not. But if that grill pan flared up, you were ready.