Till Death Do Us Purl

by Anne Canadeo

  “Which means that Jeremy didn’t have a chance to hide anything in the yarn or in those plastic storage totes,” Dana reasoned out loud. “But the intruder who ransacked your apartment probably didn’t know that.”

  “I guess not. They were just casting a wide net, it seems to me. They took almost everything that wasn’t nailed down, or they ripped it to shreds.” She paused and sighed. “Losing all that yarn does annoy me. I’ve been teaching the kids how to knit and we were going to start a new project. Which reminds me, Maggie. I wanted to ask you about those little birds and animals you have in the shop window. Are they hard to make?”

  Maggie found the sudden change in subject abrupt. But Rebecca was probably worn out from talking about all her other troubles. Talking about knitting was almost as good a distraction from worries as actually knitting, she knew.

  “Oh . . . the little amigurumi. No, they aren’t difficult at all and perfect for children. They don’t take long to make, so there’s fast gratification. And lots of motivation when you show them the samples,” she added. “You need round needles to make the body and a little polyester fluff to fill them. The wings or tails, or whatever, are knit separately and sewed on. The children will need some help with that step, but it’s a good little lesson in using a tapestry needle.”

  “That sounds pretty simple.” Maggie could see Rebecca considering the instructions the way a teacher does. Wondering if she could lead her young knitters through this uncharted territory without too much chaos and confusion. In addition to everything else she had to worry about right now, Maggie thought sympathetically.

  “Oh, I can come by and teach the lesson for you some afternoon. I want to donate all the materials anyway,” she added.

  “Maggie, please. You have a store to run. You don’t have any time for that,” Rebecca argued.

  “Of course I do. I have a very able assistant to mind the store. And I’ve been wanting to help you in some way, Rebecca. Ever since all this . . . all these traumatic events began. Please let me do it. I love working with kids and I’m not too bad at it,” she added. Everyone knew Maggie had been an art teacher for more than twenty years before she opened her shop. One of the most favorite and well remembered, too.

  “Oh, I know you’ll charm them,” Rebecca said with a smile. “They may decide they like you better than me.”

  “I doubt it,” Maggie argued with a laugh. “But I have thought of doing some volunteer work somewhere in town. It was my New Year’s resolution . . . again. What is it now, April? This gives me a chance to check that one off.”

  An inspiration to volunteer often struck Maggie. Usually, late at night, when she was sitting at home with nothing very pressing to take care of. In the bright light of day, when all the demands of her business and routine crowded in, the idealistic notion would melt away. But here was the perfect opportunity to follow through on her good intentions.

  “Let me come and show the kids how to make the animals. What day should I come?”

  “We usually meet on Wednesday and Friday afternoons. But you could come any day that’s convenient.”

  “Let me check my calendar at the shop and I’ll call you. It’s no big deal,” she added, sensing Rebecca might try to put her off again. “I’m sure you could use a little relief right now from all your responsibilities at school. I know how tiring classroom teaching can be.”

  “She could definitely off-load some of the extras. No question.” Nora had come back into the room with a tray that held a teapot, cups, and a plate of cookies that looked homemade. “But she’s very stubborn. Never likes to ask for help. She’s always been that way—” Nora set the tray on the table and began to serve them. “—and there’s that school play that she’s working on.” Nora gave her daughter a look. “Extra time at school rehearsing that, too.”

  Rebecca rolled her eyes. “The kids are such hams, it isn’t very hard to rehearse them.”

  “They are at that age. Or painfully shy,” Dana offered. “What play are you working on?” she asked curiously.

  “Nothing too ambitious. Just a comic version of Little Red Riding Hood.”

  “Oh, that must be very sweet,” Maggie said.

  “It has been fun. They’ve been working on it for weeks. I didn’t want to disappoint them. They’re almost ready for prime time,” Rebecca quipped, taking a sip of tea.

  “She really didn’t have to go back to work so quickly. Her principal was happy to let her take a leave of absence. Even to the end of the school year,” Nora told them.

  “Oh, I could never stay home that long. I would go crazy. At least I feel a little better working. It keeps my mind off of . . . of things I don’t want to think about.”

  “I understand.” Dana took the teacup Nora had poured for her. “It’s good to get back to a normal routine after a loss. I’m sure it was hard, though. You’re a very strong person, Rebecca.”

  Rebecca sighed. “I’m just doing what I have to do. For myself. And for the kids. I know they would feel abandoned. They’re very young. They wouldn’t get it.”

  Maggie understood, too, but also felt Rebecca had shown great resilience and maturity by returning to work so soon. She wondered if Rebecca was talking about her own feelings, too. She must feel abandoned by Jeremy. After all the plans they’d made for their future. The circumstances of his death had to feel like a great betrayal in some way, no matter how much she loved him. Maggie glanced at the bookcase and saw a framed photo of Rebecca and Jeremy, the one taken outdoors, the brilliant snowy background in stark contrast to their red cheeks and Jeremy’s colorful, uniquely designed scarf.

  Was that the same one he was wearing on his fateful night? Maggie shuddered and put the thought out of her mind. She preferred to focus on how they looked at that very moment, captured for all time. Content in each other’s arms, without a care in the world, their future looking as cloudless as the backdrop of clear blue sky.

  It was a lucky thing that we couldn’t see into our own futures. How could we enjoy the simple but satisfying pleasures life offered from day to day? Hour to hour? Maybe the trick was to be mindful of each moment and find joy where we could.

  She was not surprised that Rebecca did not pull out any wedding photos to show them, as most newlywed brides would have. Considering all she’d been through, those photos would be very painful to view for a long time to come, Maggie imagined. She and her friends still hadn’t looked at the pictures Suzanne had taken that day. Maggie wasn’t sure when she’d be ready for that.

  A short time later, Dana and Maggie said their good-byes and were back in Dana’s car, heading toward Maggie’s house.

  Dana turned to Maggie, taking her eyes off the road for a moment. “I’m glad I came tonight. I didn’t get a chance to speak to Rebecca at Jeremy’s service. She was still in shock. She seems to be doing much better. Considering all she’s been through.”

  “Yes, she does. She’s a strong girl. But I hope the police leave her alone and get on the right trail. There’s only so much pressure anyone can stand.”

  “That’s very true. Maybe the break-in at her apartment will convince them that she wasn’t involved.”

  “I hope so,” Maggie said quietly. “With so many people interested and involved in that glue formula, you would think the police could come up with at least one other likely suspect, besides Rebecca.”

  “And where is the formula? Even At-Las Technologies doesn’t seem to know,” Dana pointed out.

  While Maggie could not figure out the answer to either of those pressing questions, she did not forget her promise to visit Rebecca’s after-school program. She arranged to start the amigurumi lesson on Wednesday afternoon and left Phoebe in charge of the shop.

  “I have my cell phone. Make sure you call if anything comes up,” she instructed her assistant.

  “Don’t worry, I’ve got this covered.” Phoebe had slipped Maggie’s red tape measure around her neck and also Maggie’s extra pair of reading glasses, on their s
parkling, beaded cord. “How do I look? Official, right?”

  “Officially . . . very silly. Are you supposed to be me or something?”

  “Power corrupts. Absolute power corrupts absolutely.” Phoebe recited a tidbit of wisdom from a poli-sci class.

  Maggie shook her head. “If you get too bored being corrupted, you can unpack the stock that came in yesterday. Instead of texting your friends all afternoon, I mean.”

  “I’m sure I can manage both.” Phoebe smiled and gave her a little wave. “Have fun. Play nice.”

  Maggie waved and headed out.

  It had been a while since she’d worked with children this young, third through fifth grade. But that was an easy age to deal with. Most of them still minded teachers. She was sure she wouldn’t have a problem.

  As she drove to the school, she wondered why she’d never offered a children’s knitting class at the shop. Now that would be a great market hook—Mommy and Me Stitchery, she might call it. Or maybe just Kids Knit?

  I should leave the fussy helicopter mommies out of it, she decided. The kids are easier and more fun without the parents.

  Maggie arrived at the elementary school just as the children were being released for the day. There was a lot of noise and energy, a touch of spring fever in the mix, as well.

  The parking lot was hectic and the hallway even worse. But she followed Rebecca’s instructions and after signing in at the main office, soon found the school’s large multipurpose room, which had a curtained stage on one end, but smelled distinctly like a cafeteria.

  The room was nearly empty, but she saw two long tables set up with folding chairs near the double doors she had entered. Maggie had brought all the project supplies in her shopping bags. She put the bags down and was just taking off her coat when Rebecca appeared. A few children tagged after her, like pilot fish.

  “Maggie, thanks for coming.” Rebecca hugged her a moment. “I’m so glad you’re here. I have to rehearse the play after school today, too. I’m so relieved I have someone covering the club. It’s a little tricky being in charge of two groups of kids at once.”

  “Not just tricky. Sort of impossible,” Maggie agreed.

  “The rehearsal is in this room, too. Down at the other end. I could have managed, but it’s just a whole lot easier having you here.”

  “Don’t worry. I have it under control.” As soon as Maggie said the words, she realized she was echoing Phoebe’s tongue-in-cheek farewell. “Why don’t you introduce me and then sort of slip away?”

  “Great plan. I think that will work out fine.”

  The children had already begun to arrive and Maggie helped Rebecca get them settled in their seats, then gave out a snack.

  While they ate, she took out the samples of amigurumi animals, which she knew would capture their attention. They didn’t even notice when Rebecca left to join the children who had gathered near the stage and were putting on costumes on the other side of the room.

  The after-school club had a basic knowledge of knitting so she wasn’t starting from scratch. She gave out the patterns and supplies, and walked around the tables, helping them get started. Some children were more proficient than others, of course. But all were capable of casting on and reading the pattern. She was impressed.

  By the end of the meeting, a little over an hour, a few of the kids had made a good start on the bird’s body. Most were knitting slower than that and one or two had jumped ship and were fooling around, chasing each other around the big room.

  As the children gathered their knapsacks and jackets, Maggie cleaned up, collecting the extra yarn and needles and her sample animals.

  She strolled down to the other side of the room, where the play practice was still going on. Rebecca was not only the director but dressed as the big, bad wolf, wearing a rubber wolf Halloween mask, a furry vest, and rubber claws.

  When she saw Maggie, she pulled off her mask and gave the young actors a break.

  “How did it go? I’m so sorry, I didn’t get a chance to come back.”

  “That’s all right. The kids were great. Very well behaved. Most took their projects home and said they would try to finish on their own. I think they’ll all end up with some sort of cute creature. Although the finished products might not look exactly like the samples.”

  “That’s even better,” Rebecca replied with a smile. She was a good teacher, Maggie thought, valuing originality most of all.

  Maggie noticed the school principal, Stewart Campbell, enter from a door on the far side of the room. The kids called out to him in a friendly, relaxed way. Then he sat on the edge of a table, chatting and joking with them, sharing a bag of corn chips.

  When Rebecca looked over, he waved at her and began to walk toward them.

  “Stewart’s here. I can go in a minute. I just have to talk to him a sec. Want to walk out together?”

  “Sure. I’ll wait for you.”

  “Hello, Maggie,” Stewart greeted her. “Nice to see you again. Rebecca told me that you were going to visit and give the kids a special lesson.”

  “I just wanted to help Rebecca a bit. I showed the children how to make amigurumi animals.” Maggie pulled one from her knitting bag and showed him.

  “Cute. I bet those were a big hit. And Rebecca sure needed the break.” He turned to Rebecca. “I’ve told Rebecca we should find some other teachers to take over these after-school projects. I think she’s doing too much right now.”

  He was genuinely concerned, Maggie noticed, echoing Nora’s sentiments exactly. A good principal appreciates his teachers, and Rebecca had to be one of the best in the school. He was also a personal friend, Maggie recalled. A longtime colleague, which must have made it easier in some ways for Rebecca right now.

  “I’m all right, Stewart. Honestly.” Rebecca glanced at him, then pulled off her rubber claws. “If you can finish the rehearsal today, I’ll get going.”

  “Of course I can. I told you I would and here I am.” He took the mask and claws, and then the furry vest Rebecca wore over a dark blue dress. “Actually, I’ve been looking forward to this all day,” he added, glancing at Maggie. “It’s more fun than sitting in an office.”

  Maggie knew teaching could be fun if you didn’t have to do it every day. But he was a good sport to help Rebecca. Not every school principal would have stepped in this way.

  Maggie waited at the tables while Rebecca walked back to the stage with Stewart. She chatted with the principal a few more minutes, then returned with her coat and book bag.

  “I think I have everything. I hope so,” she said breathlessly. “Wait a sec . . . let me check. Sorry.” Rebecca set her book bag on the table and leafed through a stack of folders. It looked like papers she needed to grade.

  Maggie watched Stewart organizing the children to run through the last scene or two. He was also dressed up as a character now. Wearing a long funny overcoat, wire-rimmed glasses, and a strange hat. The kids were laughing hysterically and he hammed it up for them. He must have been a good classroom teacher. Which is why he appreciated a teacher like Rebecca, she realized.

  “Okay, I’m good. Sorry about that.” Rebecca hoisted up her bag and they started off again.

  “I hate to give unwanted advice,” Maggie said as they walked along, “but I’m starting to think your mother is right. And so is your principal. You’re doing an awful lot around here. You’re stretching yourself very thin.”

  “I know, but it helps me to keep from thinking about Jeremy. About what happened . . .” Her voice trailed off on a sad note as she pushed through the double doors.

  Rebecca wore her long pale hair in a knot at the back of her head today. It had mostly come undone, Maggie noticed, framing her pretty face with soft curls. She suddenly looked very young and vulnerable.

  They walked down a long school corridor, one that had been filled with jostling kids and high-pitched squeals a short time ago, but was now empty and silent. So quiet Maggie could hear the echo of their steps on the lino
leum floor. The typical pale green color, she noticed.

  “We’re just concerned about you, Rebecca. That’s all.”

  “The kids will perform the play for their parents next week. Then I’ll only have the one club and my regular class. That’s not much,” Rebecca said.

  “If you say so,” although Maggie wasn’t completely convinced.

  They came to a heavy metal door that led to the parking lot. Maggie pushed this one open and they walked out into the brisk air and late afternoon sunshine.

  Maggie’s green Subaru was parked nearby. She took out her keys and unlocked the hatch, then stored her bags of supplies.

  “I’m coming back on Friday to help the children finish the animals. Please don’t argue with me,” she said.

  “All right. Thank you. But I owe you one.”

  Maggie turned back to Rebecca, but before she could answer, she heard the doors of a sedan parked nearby open and slam.

  A man got out from behind the wheel, and a woman exited from the passenger’s side. Their gaze was fixed on Rebecca and they walked straight toward her. Very quickly, Maggie noticed. Their body language alarmed her, and she suddenly felt alert and wary.

  Maggie quickly recognized Detective Marisol Reyes, though the other face was unfamiliar.

  “Detective Reyes, can I help you?” Rebecca sounded scared.

  These were the detectives investigating Jeremy’s murder and they looked as if they were on official business. Very official. Maggie took a step closer to Rebecca so they faced the two police officers shoulder to shoulder.

  “We have new information in the investigation, Rebecca. We need to ask you some more questions.” Detective Reyes spoke in an even, serious tone.

  “About what? What’s come up exactly?” Maggie knew she had no right to interfere, but couldn’t help herself.

  “Hello, Mrs. Messina.” Detective Reyes turned to Maggie. “I had a feeling we’d run into each other before this case was over. Rebecca told us how you helped with her wedding gown.”

  Maggie wasn’t sure where that detail had fit into the long story. But the police had questioned Rebecca several times now. They must have retrieved plenty of irrelevant information. You never know what will be important, a police detective had once told her. Maggie could see that was true.