Knit in Comfort

by Isabel Sharpe

  “Something is going on, you might as well tell us what. All these calls and visits, and you telling everyone you can’t talk about it. At this point whatever it is, we can imagine something worse, so you better just tell us.”

  Jeffrey came into the room hugging his favorite stuffed dog. “Are you sick? Is Daddy?”

  “Does he have cancer?” Deena followed him. “Is that why he left? Is he in the hospital?”

  “No.” Megan gathered the kids to her. Deena and Jeffrey clung; Lolly moved away. “Nobody’s sick. I promise you. Your Dad and I had an argument. We’re upset right now. Like when you guys fight, you don’t want to be around each other, so he thought he’d leave for a while.”

  “Mom?” Jeffrey’s voice was high and small, like he was five years younger than nine. “Are you getting a divorce?”

  The word hung ugly in the air. Divorce. Dear God.

  “Your dad will come home when we’ve both cooled off and we’ll talk our disagreement over. Just like I teach you guys to do.”

  “Really?” His need to believe nearly broke her barely held composure.

  “Really.”

  “Why does the whole town know?” Lolly, not satisfied yet.

  “Someone must have heard us.”

  “Your fight was that loud?” Jeffrey was horrified.

  “No, of course not. But people were here, and someone must have said something by mistake. Now. Who wants to scrape the bowl?”

  Jeffrey and Deena volunteered for the honor with one tenth their usual excitement. Megan grabbed two teaspoons from the flatware drawer and handed one to each. They jostled for position more solemnly than usual, but at least with enthusiasm. Megan held the thickly chocolate-coated spatula out to Lolly.

  “No thanks.” Lolly held her gaze, not angry or defiant but disappointed, hurt and still worried, which was much worse.

  “It’s your favorite.”

  “I know. I’m just not in the mood.” She turned and walked out of the room. Chocolate didn’t work at her age. Soft-pedaling a crisis didn’t either. Megan had blown it. She needed to treat Lolly as the near-adult she was.

  Tears rose. Megan fought them back, clenching her throat, swallowing convulsively. The tide barely faltered. She wasn’t going to be able to beat this one.

  “Deen’, Jeff, going for a walk, back soon.” She managed to sound mostly normal.

  “Okay.”

  “Okay, Mom, bye Mom.” Jeffrey spoke through a spoonful of cake batter.

  Outside she hurried toward the woods, past David’s empty house, letting the tears go, but not giving in to sobs yet.

  “Megan.”

  “Hey, Megan.”

  She didn’t stop. What were Ella and Elizabeth doing at David’s house? Was he back? She wouldn’t let herself hope. He’d be a wreck, no matter what happened with his ex. She couldn’t help him in this state and he couldn’t help her.

  “Megan.”

  Their footsteps pounded the asphalt behind her, flashing her back: new-in-school nerd pursued by a gang of popular girls. As then, she could run, but what was the point?

  Not bothering to hide her misery, she turned. Maybe they’d been at David’s printing the latest issue of Bigamist News.

  “What do you want?”

  “We want to see how you are.” Elizabeth reached to touch Megan’s arm and then changed her mind when Megan flinched.

  “David asked me to e-mail him some files off his computer.” Ella met her eyes, still looking human, throwing Megan off balance.

  “How is he?”

  “So-so. Vicky is pitching hard. He’s not convinced, but he’s staying to hear her out.”

  “I see.” Megan tried to swallow over the weighted medicine ball in her throat. David had called Ella for the files. He’d told Ella about Vicky.

  “He said to say hello and—”

  “Who is spreading my story around town, Ella?” She tried to make it clear in her voice who she thought, but uncertainty made her miss the mark. Ella wasn’t behaving like someone who’d just succeeded in destroying Megan’s life and wanted to gloat.

  “Dorene told Cara. She only told her, and only because Cara called when Dorene was still really upset on your behalf, but of course…” Ella’s face tightened into anger. “Cara told everyone. You know how it goes here. I’m sorry, Megan.”

  “Okay.” She didn’t know whether to believe her or not.

  “Did you think it was me?” Ella arched an eyebrow, but didn’t seem surprised.

  Megan shrugged. “It would have made sense.”

  “Except, believe it or not, I’m on your side.”

  “Really, this whole thing is my fault. I should have minded my own business when I heard Stanley talking to…her.” This time Elizabeth did touch Megan, laid her hand on her shoulder. “But I want to make it right.”

  Megan nearly laughed through new tears. For all Elizabeth’s loyalty, sometimes Megan just wanted her to go away. “What can you possibly do?”

  “Ella and I were about to go out for ice cream.” Elizabeth squeezed her shoulder and let go. “Come with us. That’ll do for a start.”

  “I don’t think I can.”

  “Come on, Megan.” Ella rolled her eyes. “Do something impetuous and stupid for once.”

  “I did that when I married Stanley. It didn’t work for me.”

  A startled silence, then Ella and Elizabeth saw Megan’s smirk and burst out laughing.

  “Come on.” Ella giggled again. “Let’s go put a dent in one of the Chit Chat Café’s Bucket Sundaes.”

  “But my kids…I have a cake in the oven…”

  “Not a problem.” Ella whipped out her cell phone, dialed with nails whose burgundy polish was chipped on two fingers. If that wasn’t a sign of the apocalypse…

  “Lolly, honey, it’s Ella. Elizabeth and I are kidnapping your mother and taking her to the Chit Chat for ice cream, can you take the cake out when it’s done? And be in charge of the little guys?” She listened to the response, met Megan’s eyes and smiled so warmly, Megan dropped hers. “Yeah. Okay. I’ll tell her. I will. Okay, honey. You be good.”

  Ella flipped her phone closed. “She said she had that chocolate spatula after you left, it was really good and thank you. She said she was glad we were taking you out because you seem sad.”

  Megan nodded, wiped away two more tears. “Do I have any makeup left on?”

  “No, you’re hideous.”

  “You’re gorgeous.” Elizabeth socked Ella playfully. “Let’s go, I’m hungry. I think I skipped lunch.”

  Megan followed Ella and Elizabeth, feeling apprehensive and third-wheel. Last time she’d been to the Chit Chat for ice cream was to celebrate Jeffrey’s ninth birthday in May. Stanley had been away and she’d had eight crazed children to cope with by herself; she hadn’t ordered anything but coffee. She was due for a splurge, but she wished it was under other circumstances.

  They drove the short distance to downtown Comfort, parked by Tucker’s Hardware and filed into the Chit Chat Café, its scarred red vinyl booths and chrome-edged counter stools nearly deserted on a Monday mid-afternoon. Tyler Pinkton and Andrew Gellar were at the counter drinking coffee and reading newspapers. Gladys and Stellie Jacob sat at another table finishing a late lunch.

  They sat, Ella and Elizabeth on one side, Megan on the other. Kerry Banks came to wait on them, grinning while her eyes stayed bored. She’d been head cheerleader at Comfort High ten years earlier. Apparently life had been downhill ever since.

  “Hey there, girls, how y’all doing today?” She glanced at Megan curiously.

  “We have never been better.” Ella’s tone challenged her to think otherwise. “We’d like one bucket sundae and three of the biggest spoons you’ve got.”

  “Yes ma’am, coffee too?”

  “Coffee too.”

  Kerry nodded and strolled away. Megan examined a burn mark on the Formica table, body buzzing with unpleasant adrenaline. In her peripheral vision she saw Tyle
r staring, Gladys glancing over, then bending her head toward Stellie. Why had Megan come here with these women? She should have stayed home with her kids and summoned the guts to tell them the truth, a truth she owed them years ago, but Stanley had been so adamant they shouldn’t find out. He said it was best for them. Now it seemed painfully obvious it was only best for him.

  “Well…” Ella leaned languorously back against vinyl that clashed with her nails. “Another lovely day in Comfort.”

  Elizabeth sighed. “I liked it better when I thought the town was perfect.”

  “Get real. People suck everywhere.”

  “Oh stop, you sound like David. And speaking of, do you think he’ll go back to his wife?”

  “If you ask me…” Ella answered, looking at Megan, “he’d be a fool to.”

  Megan had no idea how to react to this version of Ella. Did she know about David, too? Had he told her of his feelings during one of those drunken evenings they spent together? Megan didn’t want to think about it.

  “So Megan, what are you going to do now?” Elizabeth asked. “Stay? Leave?”

  She flinched. “I don’t—”

  “Here you go.” The waitress set down the plastic bucket heaped with eight scoops of ice cream: strawberry, vanilla, chocolate, cookie dough, chocolate chip, Oreo, butter pecan and Rocky Road. Pooling and dripping over them, chocolate, caramel, marshmallow, butterscotch, pineapple and strawberry sauces. Above this ice-creamscape, clouds of whipped cream, walnuts, pecans, almonds, chocolate jimmies and colored sprinkles. The crowning touch: three maraschino cherries. Three long-handled spoons stuck straight out of its considerable depth.

  Megan flashed back to the table of nine-year-olds, plunging in spoons, shoving full loads gleefully into messy mouths. She remembered sharing a sundae here the summer she and Stanley got together. He’d bragged about their engagement to anyone who would listen. She’d had no appetite for ice cream, only hunger for the handsome man who would introduce stability and peace to her life, impatient for the wholesome and bright future they’d share.

  “On your mark…” Ella picked up the spoon closest to her and waited until the others followed. “Get set…go.”

  Megan dug her spoon into the cold gooey sundae and came up with a mix of butter pecan and pineapple that tasted like heaven.

  “Oh, that’s orgasmic.” Elizabeth’s eyes rolled back in her head. “All the more for being a caloric nightmare.”

  “Eaten at a completely inappropriate time of day.”

  Megan took another spoonful, vanilla with butterscotch, walnuts and whipped cream. She’d probably be sick the rest of the day.

  “I wanted to let you know I’m leaving Comfort, Megan.” Ella spoke calmly, filled up her spoon again. “Pieces of my old life have been collapsing for so long, it’s time. You know how I felt about Stanley…”

  Megan nodded at the bucket. Yes. She knew.

  “Or how I thought I felt about Stanley. Finding out that he—Well, it was the last piece of the old skin. Shedded now. I’m ready to move on.”

  “Where will you go?”

  “I have a second interview for a job in Atlanta as assistant to the president of Savannah College of Art and Design. My gut says they’ll hire me.”

  Megan ate another spoonful without tasting it. She felt close to tears again, and didn’t trust herself to speak. Even two days ago, if someone told her she’d be mourning Ella’s departure, she’d have laughed for a week.

  “I’ll be here for Sally’s wedding next month either way. And I’ll finish my part of the lace.”

  Megan took a sip of coffee to clear her throat. “I hope they do hire you, Ella. And I’m glad you’ll be at Sally’s wedding.”

  “Of course I will be.” Ella watched Elizabeth clean a thread of caramel sauce off her chin and miss half of it. “Would you get married again, Megan?”

  “I’m married now.”

  “But I mean if you leave him.”

  Megan shrugged. She’d stayed with Stanley knowing about his other wife for fifteen years. The only thing that had really changed now was that the lies about it would stop. She didn’t want to hear that other people were planning the end of her marriage. “I don’t know.”

  “I don’t think I’ll ever marry again.”

  “Oh, come on, Ella.” Elizabeth fought her for a spoonful of Oreo with hot fudge. “Of course you will.”

  “Why? Because everyone does?”

  “No, because you’re so…” Elizabeth waved her spoon around, fishing for the words. “Into men.”

  “Ha! You try going through a divorce, see what it does to you. When I found myself alone after I left Don, all I could think about was finding a replacement as soon as possible.” Ella shuddered. “Let’s just say I’m better now.”

  “Thanks to Stanley?” Megan didn’t try to keep the irony from her voice.

  “At least in part. Killed off my perfect man fantasy pretty quick.”

  “Then all this has been good for something.” She forced a smile, wanting to go home, wanting to get as far away from this conversation as possible, to dive into bed and pull the covers over her head like Vera had, not come out until she felt ready to face the world.

  Except she’d spent the last fifteen years unable to face the world. What made her think a few days in bed would change that?

  “I bet this mess will turn out to be good for lots of things.” Elizabeth wiped at the caramel drip and missed again. “I bet you look back someday and realize it’s one of those this-is-the-first-day-of-the-rest-of-my-life moments.”

  Ella looked sick. “Elizabeth, you could put ipecac syrup out of business.”

  “I was just—”

  “Good afternoon, ladies. Ella, Elizabeth.” Mr. Coughlin, who supposedly worked at the mayor’s office, only “work” didn’t appear to be in his job description. “And Megan…my dear. How are you doing?”

  Megan sighed. She was really starting to hate that tone.

  “Hey, she’s got a Chit-Chat ice-cream bucket in front of her, how can she be anything but euphoric?”

  Frank chuckled and pointed a finger-gun at Ella. “You kill me, girl.”

  “I’d sure like to,” she mumbled.

  “If you need anything, Megan honey, advice, a shoulder, a place to bunk down, you let me know, okay? Marge and I will be glad to help.”

  “Thank you.” Megan managed a polite smile, wanting to throw down her spoon and run. She couldn’t live here and be treated like a terminal-cancer patient. She’d take the kids and go…somewhere. To New Jersey with Dad? Would Stanley move with them? He might leave Comfort now. But they couldn’t abandon Vera, and she’d never leave.

  “Take care, y’all. Stop by the office anytime if you need to talk.” He waved cheerfully and strode out of the café, whistling.

  “Oh, right, his office is the first place you’d go.” Ella shook her head, making her dark hair swing. “I won’t miss this small-town shit at all.”

  “Oh, but it’s so wonderful that everyone comes together in a time of crisis and supports…” Elizabeth trailed off at Ella’s withering look. “Okay, never mind. Anyway, I still believe this will turn out for the best. I believe in aiming high, expecting good things to happen. If you don’t, life is chaos. And so sad.”

  “Oh my God,” Ella groaned. “Why do I like you again?”

  “Because I’m yang to your yin; you’re incomplete without me.” Elizabeth turned to Megan, that tiny thread of golden sugar still glistening on her chin. “We got interrupted last time I asked. Megan, what are you going to do now?”

  “Oh…” She wanted to dip her napkin in water and wiped away that caramel. She wanted order and neatness, she wanted peace, and happy, busy kids with stable, comfortable lives. And she wanted to knit lace by the ocean for weeks at a time. “Probably what I do best. Just go on.”

  Ella made a pained sound. “God, does that sound pathetic.”

  “I think you should leave him.”

  “Easy
for you to say.” Megan spooned up Rocky Road with marshmallow sauce. “I have no income of my own. And I have three children.”

  “And he has two wives,” Ella said.

  “Uh…I knew that.” Megan licked marshmallow from her lips. How would life be different if Stanley had stayed only with her? His salary would go twice as far. She could afford help around the house. Trips with the children, to expose them to more than rural North Carolina. And she’d have him to herself. Would that have made her life so different? Maybe. Maybe not.

  “Have you ever met her?” Elizabeth inadvertently added a stripe of chocolate to her chin. “The other wife? I wonder what she’s like.”

  “Gillian to my Fiona.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I found her picture in his wallet. Years ago. But I knew anyway. He dated you, Ella, for years, look at you.” She gestured to Ella’s perfect makeup, chic black sleeveless top and well-muscled arms. “Where else would he turn when Fiona didn’t measure up?”

  “Oh, give me a break. What makes you think you’re the problem?” Ella threw down her spoon in disgust. “Why isn’t it just some sick deviance in your darling husband? From what Vera let slip to me, the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. I guess Rocky kept his Bullwinkle busy, too.”

  Elizabeth put a hand over her mouth to keep from spitting ice cream. Even Megan started giggling.

  “Oh God,” Ella whispered. “Duck. It’s Betty Ethers. She’ll want to join us and eat the whole sundae.”

  “Too late,” murmured Megan.

  “Hey, girls.” Betty waddled the last few steps to their table, forehead creased with concern. “Megan, you just can’t imagine how sorry I am to hear about that rat husband of yours. Is Vera okay? She hasn’t shown up to play cards all week. Tell her us girls are worried sick about her.”

  “I will. Thanks, Betty.”

  “Oh my.” Her eyes lit up at the half-empty ice-cream bucket. “Doesn’t that look good.”

  “Yup.” Ella defiantly ignored etiquette and didn’t ask her to join them, shook her head when Megan started to. “It’s delicious.”

  “Oh…Well…” She waited a few more hopeful seconds. “You enjoy yourselves. I’ll be getting home now. Got to put up some peach jam.”