Yarn to Go (12 page)

14

“THERE YOU ARE,” KRIS SAID WHEN I CAME INTO
the living room area of Sand and Sea. “I’m glad you made it.” Was there a little reproach in her voice or was that my imagination? But then she had made a point that it wasn’t part of her duties to handle this evening knit-together event. At first I had referred to her as the retreat leader, but then she’d made it clear she wasn’t. After that I wasn’t sure what to call her. Knitting teacher didn’t seem to cover it. So, I just used her name.

When I’d gotten outside at Dane’s, his guests had already gone into the garage, so I never got a look at them. I just heard the instant boom of pulsating music. I’d hurried back to my place and picked up another batch of the butter cookies to share with the group.

A fire crackled in the fireplace, and the soft lighting made the living room like area of the two story building feel cozy and inviting. Lucinda looked up from one of the easy chairs with a question in her eye and I tried to communicate that I’d talk to her later. I wasn’t sure I wanted to tell the group about my trip to Dane’s.

“I thought you understood what the knit-together was,” Kris said. “The idea is that everyone makes a predetermined-sized square and then they are given to a charity who puts them together into blankets before they are donated to a local shelter.” She looked at me, waiting for some kind of recognition. “Your aunt provided the yarn.”

“Oh,” I said, glancing around at the group and noticing that some of them were knitting.

“I had some sample skeins from the yarn company who is behind Retreat in a Box. But there wasn’t enough for everyone.” Kris watched as I set the plate of cookies down on the coffee table. “I was glad to help out, but . . .” She didn’t have to finish. I got it. It was really my responsibility. But what was I supposed to do?

I asked about the concert as a stall. It seemed only Lucinda had stayed through the whole thing, and there wasn’t much to say other than you certainly couldn’t sing along.

“It makes me glad I never made it,” Kris said. “Kevin St. John stopped me and wanted to talk to me about working with him on more retreats. He was trying to get me to commit to being the head knitting instructor. I had to explain to him that this is my last. I’m going to be too busy promoting Retreat in a Box, traveling around and doing demos at all kinds of yarn events.”

I looked around to see what everyone was doing. Scott must have gotten some of Kris’s yarn and had positioned himself in a shadowy corner. His eyes kept darting toward the door, and he seemed ready to ditch his needles if anyone came in. Lucinda was holding a selection of needles but had no yarn. Bree said she’d had the ball of pale pink yarn and the white plastic needles in the backpack she used as a purse. I’m sure the whole group was glad she’d left her phone and tablet packed away for once.

“I love that we’re all going to make the same thing,” she said. I noted that Bree had already completed several rows. Melissa and Sissy both had yarn, though not the same kind, and were sitting side by side, knitting in unison. Melissa stopped abruptly and looked at her daughter’s work.

“I don’t know why you you’re using that red bouclé yarn. It’s so hard to see the stitches.” Melissa pulled out the other end of the royal blue yarn she was using and offered it to her daughter. “The skein is big enough to make two squares. We can knit from either end of it.” Sissy looked at her mother with such horror I almost laughed. Been there, done that. It sure looked different viewing it from the outside. Melissa was just trying to be helpful to her daughter. I leaned closer and saw that the red yarn was covered with bumps, while the royal blue yarn was smooth.

“Maybe you can’t see the stitches in my yarn, but I can see them perfectly,” Sissy said, before making an irritated sound as she looked at her work. She turned away so her mother couldn’t see what she was doing, but even to a novice like me, it was obvious she’d found some kind of mistake.

Olivia had chosen an overstuffed chair in the far corner of the room near a window that looked out over the dark slope in front of the building. She wasn’t knitting and didn’t seem to mind that her hands were idle.

“You know enough to make a square,” Kris said to me. It hadn’t even occurred to me that I was supposed to actually take part in this activity, and I started to hem and haw, but Kris continued on and said that I could use any size needles or type of yarn and she’d help me make the adjustments so the square turned out the right size. I felt like I was being backed into a corner.

Lucinda suggested we go to the gift shop and pick up some yarn.

“Why don’t you get some of your aunt’s stash?” Melissa said. “There are probably needles, too.”

The comment surprised me, and I perked up. “How did you know my aunt had a lot of yarn and needles?” I thought of the needles that had disappeared. Obviously for them to have been taken, someone had to know they were there.

The group laughed at my question. “Everyone who does anything with yarn usually has a closet full of it and needles coming out the kazoo,” Bree said. “You should see what the other Ewes have.”

I slumped, disappointed that Melissa knowing my aunt had needles wasn’t a clue. It also became obvious they weren’t going to let me off the hook from joining them.

“I’ll get some yarn for me, Lucinda and Olivia and be back,” I said, getting up. I had been through the Vista Del Mar grounds enough times in the past two days that I easily found my way to the driveway in the dark. As I crossed the street, I glanced toward Dane’s. There were cars parked on both sides of the narrow street and light coming from the garage. Obviously, the party was in full swing.

Just as I was about to go into my aunt’s through the kitchen door, Lucinda joined me. “I thought you might need some help. Not that I’m an expert.”

“Compared to me you are, and thank you, I’m glad for any help I can get. Besides, now I can tell you what I did while you were snapping your fingers to the jazz chamber music.” Lucinda chuckled and rolled her eyes.

“I must be desperate for entertainment to have sat through that. You have no idea. It was all plink, plunk.”

As we rummaged through my aunt’s closet, I told her what Dane had said, and maybe I also mentioned what I’d found in his bathroom.

“I guess even Cadbury cops need some kind of release,” she said with a grin. “So the knitting needles didn’t kill Edie. Suffocated? Did he say how?” Lucinda said. Before I could answer, she remembered seeing the pillow on the floor.

I told her about the contents of the throw up. “Barbiturates and wine? I guess that explains why she could barely stand up.” Lucinda poked through a bag of yarn. “Edie seemed so upbeat. It’s hard to think she’d do something like that. It seems pretty hard-core.”

“Maybe she didn’t know she was mixing a sleeping pill with alcohol. Maybe somebody spiked her wine.”

“But you said they found a loose sleeping pill in her purse,” Lucinda said.

“Right,” I said, realizing that put in hole in the “spiked her wine” theory. “Besides, I’m sure she would have noticed if someone dropped something in her glass. It just seems kind of convenient that she was so loopy when someone put a pillow over her face.”

We talked about who had access to the glasses and who also had control of who got which glass, and one name jumped out: Kevin St. John. “He was the one pouring and handing out the wine,” I said. “And Edie did know him from before. He looked pretty uncomfortable when she was first talking to him. Maybe she had some information on him he wanted to bury,” I said. “But we can’t figure that out now. And we better get back. I am supposed to be in charge.” That’s when I got it. The title
retreat leader
belonged to me.

Lucinda found several skeins of light gray wool. There was enough for both of us and Olivia with some left over. “This ought to be easy to use.” She explained that certain kinds of yarn presented few problems. “Worsted-weight in a light color is the easiest to work with.” Lucinda chuckled at her own comment. “Don’t I just sound like an expert? Actually, I just heard that from Melissa.”

We looked through the needles next and picked out a pair of large ones. “This way I can make my square faster,” I said. We grabbed several other sets to bring along so Olivia could have her choice. While I snagged a tote bag from my aunt’s collection and packed up the supplies, Lucinda fixed her hair and put on fresh lipstick. I didn’t even think to glance in the mirror.

When we came outside, I saw something dark and small moving through the plants in the backyard. I shined my flashlight on it and saw that it was the black cat. Instead of taking off, it sat down near us.

“There’s that cat again,” Lucinda said. “He seems to like you.”

“Him?” I said. “How can you tell?”

“I’m not a cat expert, but something about the face makes me think it’s a male.”

“He must belong to somebody around here,” I said.

“Maybe, maybe not,” my friend said as the cat walked away with a flick of its tall before we headed back across the street. In our absence, everyone but Olivia had continued to work on their squares. I was touched when everyone wanted to help me start mine. Only Kris acted as a taskmaster and said I needed to learn how to do it myself. The whole thing about learning how to fish instead of being handed one, again. Personally, I would have taken the help. I doubted I’d be knitting when the weekend was done. Actually, I was wondering if I’d even keep it up all weekend.

But for now, I didn’t want to make any waves. Olivia reluctantly accepted a skein of yarn and picked from the needles I’d brought. Lucinda was able to start her square on her own, but I had already forgotten how to cast on. Kris did a demo and told me how many stitches I needed so my square would turn out about the right size. Once I had the stitches on my needle, I began knitting and was surprised when my fingers seemed to know what to do on their own.

“See, your fingers already remember,” Kris said, nodding with approval as I went through the first row. Then she picked up her own work. I was shocked to see that her square was already almost complete. I think she was very happy to blend into the background.

Bree held up her work and tried to compare it with everyone else’s. “Oh no,” she wailed. “I thought were supposed to make it in the garter stitch.”

“There’s no wrong way, Bree,” Sissy said. “Kris said the only requirement was that they’re about the same size.”

Bree apologized. “I’m just so used to being with a group that is all working on exactly the same thing.”

“And you worry about getting it wrong and somebody coming down on you,” Sissy said, giving a side glare at her mother.

“Among other things. Have you ever noticed how loud silence is?” Bree said. She pulled her gray hooded sweatshirt closer around herself. “I mean when you’re used to being with your kids like all the time and your husband has the TV on tuned to some basketball game with all those bouncing balls and squeaky shoes and then suddenly you’re in a room by yourself without any noise. Well, maybe a bird singing or the sound of the ocean coming from outside. But the silence inside just seems so spooky. And being by yourself starts to feel really weird. Like the thoughts in your head start blaring out at you.”

“Give it some time. You’ll get used to it,” Olivia said. She had been staying on the outskirts of the group, but when she began on her square, she had pulled her chair in closer to get better light. I was beginning to get used to her distracted look and took it as normal for her. I had also accepted that she didn’t seem to want to be here and was clearly disturbed about something. She had taken the yarn I’d offered along with the needles and without looking down had cast on her stitches and begun to knit as if the needles were on autopilot. I think we were all surprised when Olivia spoke. But as soon as the words were out of her mouth, she looked away and stared at the crackling fire.

“Does that mean you live alone?” Bree said to Olivia. “You haven’t told us much about yourself.”

“There’s nothing I want to tell,” Olivia said. I was glad she looked at the group when she spoke. It was too creepy having her stare at the fire while she talked to us.

“We can all see there’s something on your mind,” Melissa said. “You’ll probably feel better if you talk about it.”

Olivia shook her head with such vehemence, the reddish hair that framed her almond-shaped face flapped back and forth. “I know when people get together and start knitting, it turns into a therapy session. And I’m sure you all mean really well, but I don’t want to talk about anything.” And that was the end of it. She went back to staring at the fire as her needles kept clacking.

Sissy was sitting, hanging her legs over the arm of the wing chair and looked toward Bree. “It sounds like you really need some time to yourself. That you’ve lost track of who you are,” Sissy said. “I know what that’s like.”

“Now, Sissy, don’t start airing our dirty laundry,” her mother said with a warning in her voice. Melissa spoke to the group. “It’s just mother and daughter stuff.”

I listened to their wrangling and thought of my dealings with my mother. Is that what we sounded like? I groaned to myself and made a mental note never to fuss with my mother again—at least not in public. I was sure they’d been arguing like that since Sissy had learned to talk. I knew we had.