by Cathy Elliot
Ian shook his head. “It’s a new day. No doubt about it.” He handed the file back to Annie. “Do you have anything else relating to the medals? Letters? Pictures?”
Annie clasped her hand over her mouth and then removed it, saying, “Oh, that’s right!”
“What is it?”
“I can’t believe I forgot,” she said. “I have pictures too.”
“Tell me,” Ian said.
She told him about the black-and-white photos at the bottom of the box that housed the medals. “The young woman reminds me of Gram when she was very young. Just a little. But I can’t tell for sure, because she’s not facing the camera. And she’s wearing a hat too.”
“Could it be your grandparents?”
“I’m pretty sure the man isn’t my grandfather. So it’s probably not them.” Annie looked thoughtful as she finished off her coffee. “Though Gram had a sweetheart before she met Grandpa. So …?”
“This could be him?” Ian asked.
“It’s possible, I guess. But who is he? How will I find out? There are no names on the back.”
The mayor had a ready answer. “Stella Brickson. They were friends when Stella was a young girl, right?”
“Of course! Now I’m excited!”
“Glad to help. I might be of more assistance if I could actually see the medals. Do you think you could drop them by the office one of these days?”
“Yes.” She thought a moment. “Maybe I should try and speak to Stella first. She might have information that would fill in some blanks.”
“Good idea.” Ian stood. “Feel free to call or drop by my office any time that’s good for you. If I’m not there, just leave a message with Mrs. Nash. I’ll be in touch.”
“I can do that.” Annie started to rise also. “By the way, at Malone’s you said there was something you wanted to ask me. What is it?”
“I’m afraid you’ll think it odd,” he said, hesitating, “but I wanted to ask if I could borrow Wally to paint my kitchen sometime in the next year or so. I know you’ve got him tied up pretty well out at Grey Gables. But there are other people interested in hiring him. People in local government, even.”
“Mr. Mayor!” Annie acted indignant, but inwardly she chuckled. “Are you using your official title to make me give up my handyman?”
“Would it help?”
“No. But I’ll lend him to you, anyway, right after my kitchen is done. How’s that?”
“It’s a bargain. Now I need a little advice on a paint color …”
9
Ian escorted Annie back to her car before returning to his office. She was eager to quiz Stella. This morning she had been knitting in her favorite chair at A Stitch in Time. Might she still be there?
Annie opened the car door and dropped the file on the backseat. Then she dashed around the corner, hoping to see Stella inside.
Peering past the stenciled store name on the front window, she saw Alice instead, standing at the counter. She seemed to be sorting through a big basket of patterns. Annie entered and walked up to her friend. “Are you spending more of your hard-earned money in here?”
“She’s got to spend it somewhere,” Mary Beth said. “Might as well be here. And here and here and here.” She tapped several patterns that Alice had chosen from a basket labeled “Sale–20% Off.”
“Just doing my part to keep the economy going,” Alice said. “Look, Annie. I actually found a Betsy on sale! I can’t pass it up.” She pushed one of the patterns toward her friend.
“I’m telling you, Alice, that’s a mistake,” Mary Beth said. “I never mark down Betsy’s cross-stitch patterns. Don’t have to. They sell themselves.” She gave Alice an accusatory glare. “Are you sure you didn’t put that pattern in the sale basket yourself?”
“I won’t dignify that question with any other answer than this: You watched me sort through these patterns, Mary Beth. One by one. Why, Betsy herself used to say ‘Patience is a virtue.’ ” And I was patient, searching for the perfect pattern. You know the Betsy Original was in this bunch.” Alice continued flipping through the patterns. “Don’t blame me for your mistake.”
“Alice has a point,” Annie smiled. “Besides, isn’t the customer always right?”
Mary Beth released a big sigh. “Fine! But I’m watching you.” She pointed to Alice. “Twenty percent off and not a penny more.”
“What about my discount for bringing you a hamburger last week?”
“Don’t push it.” Mary Beth walked over to a wall displaying all manner of patterns and how-to books for knitting, crocheting, quiltmaking, scrapbooking, and of course cross-stitching. “I’ll be over here guarding my stock if you need me.”
Annie picked up the Betsy Original pattern that Alice slid across the counter. Titled “The Sanctuary.” Not Gram’s typical design. It showed a country church with spire stitched against a plain background, no clouds or horizon. The pristine white of the building, bordered by lacy trees, gave the impression of a free-floating, shaded structure embossed on the blue aida cloth.
The little church could be floating on a blue-gray sea as the fog rolled in, like a sanctuary spot in the storms of life. Or perhaps it wasn’t grounded on earth at all but set in the sky and lifted far above the fray, ever higher toward heaven. Gram had created an elegant design meant to inspire the viewer. And she succeeded. Alice soon selected the sale items she wanted, paid Mary Beth, and the two friends headed outside. Alice hugged the package. “I can’t believe my luck! A Betsy Original. And such an unusual one. Have you seen this before?”
Annie admitted she couldn’t recall that particular pattern. But there were so many.
As the two strolled across Main Street and onto Oak Lane, Alice asked, “Where have you been all day? I think I filled up your message machine, trying to get a hold of you.”
“Oh, here and there.” Annie explained her whereabouts, adding details about her trip to the Stony Point Library and her chat with Ian. “He had a great suggestion about the mystery too. Don’t you think it’s helpful to discuss things with Mayor Butler? He’s able to pull all the facts together and give a clearer picture. Cut through the baloney, so to speak.”
“A good trait in a mayor. What did he say?” Alice asked.
“One thing in particular, about those photos. He said I should talk to Stella. Maybe she could give me some answers.”
“He’s right. We know she was devoted to Betsy when they were young.” Alice stopped. “Hey. Didn’t I say the same thing to you?”
“Did you?” Annie asked as they approached her car. “When?”
Alice gave an impatient sigh. “Yesterday morning. Remember? I told you we should get the Hook and Needle Club involved.”
Annie looked baffled for a moment; then her face cleared. “Well, of course you did.”
“Thanks. Just trying to get some credit here,” Alice said.
Annie tossed her arm around Alice’s shoulder and gave her an impromptu hug. “No worries. Your credit is always good with me.”
Then she dug in her purse for her car keys. “I better get home. Wally’s been working in the kitchen, and I’m dying to see what he’s done. Plus, I have all those messages to listen to on my answering machine. Why were you calling me, by the way?” Annie asked.
A shadow passed over Alice’s face. “Well, I still feel bad about giving out too much information about the medals. I’d like to make it up to you. How about I take you out to dinner at the Fish House?”
“The Grand Avenue Fish House? I’ve never been.”
“One and the same. We can have a ladies’ night. Dress up and enjoy ourselves. Swap stories about Stony Point. It will be fun. Let’s do it.”
“Tonight?”
“Why not? We both have to eat. And there’s plenty of time. Say yes.”
All of a sudden, Annie couldn’t think of anything she wanted to do more. “Yes!”
* * * *
Later that evening, Annie shut the driver’s side door and m
oved away from the Malibu, brushing any imaginary dust from her favorite floral-print dress. She’d added a black velveteen jacket for warmth and punctuated her look with jet earrings, a birthday present from the twins last Christmas. She felt full of anticipation. How sweet Alice had been to think of this evening out.
Annie gazed at her friend, admiring how good she looked in her deep brown retro dress. Alice looped elbows with Annie. “Let’s go have a nice dinner and enjoy our evening. We deserve it.”
They walked into the Grand Avenue Fish House and were seated right away, thanks to Alice’s foresight to make a reservation. The view from their table was magnificent as the last of the twilight sky vanished with the sun. The stars glittered and the sea shimmered, quiet and peaceful this night. They could even see Butler’s Lighthouse in the distance, which gave Annie a feeling of security. And a pinch of nostalgia too, since viewing Gram’s cross-stitch earlier today.
A young man with slicked-back hair brought them stemmed goblets of ice water and handed each a leather-covered menu. “Good evening, ladies. My name is Derek, and I’ll be your waiter. May I recommend the house special?”
“You may,” Alice said. “Pray, enlighten us.”
Annie opened and studied the menu. In her opinion, Alice was acting like the lady-of-the-manor. Best to avoid eye contact.
“Certainly. Tonight we have a Mediterranean seafood stew with Maine lobster, shrimp, sea scallops, blue mussels, littleneck clams, and a smokehouse almond-basil pesto.” Derek had every line memorized. “May I start you off with something from the bar?”
Annie and Alice declined Derek’s offer, opting instead for the water.
“Are either of you interested in the special?”
“Sounds delightful. But I’d like to look at your other selections before I decide,” Alice said, opening her menu.
“Me too.” Annie appreciated the amazing fresh seafood available here on the coast of Maine, but the special featured a lot of fishy flavors in one dish. Especially for a Texas barbecue kind of gal. “Thanks.”
“Isn’t this fun?” Alice leaned forward. “I can’t imagine why we don’t do this once a week. I feel so … so … fancy!” Her blue eyes flashed with apparent pleasure.
Annie smiled her agreement. She surveyed the room, taking in the gleaming wood floors, the soft overhead lighting, and round tables--most situated in front of the wall of windows facing the harbor where spectacular scenery dominated the décor. Its only adornment, a gold-rimmed hurricane lamp at the center of each table--candlelight flickering inside the glass. The effect reminded Annie of a plain black dress worn with a diamond pendant. The perfect accessory.
Alice gave an understated wave. “Look who’s here!”
“Who?” Annie searched the diners until she saw one waving back. “Why it’s Kate and Vanessa. And who is that with them?”
“Kate’s former husband, Harry Stephens.” Alice lowered her voice as if their conversation might be heard several tables away. “He’s a handsome man. No wonder Vanessa is such a beautiful girl. Kate looks lovely, doesn’t she?”
Annie nodded. “Yes. I can’t imagine why Harry would let her get away.”
“I really don’t know him at all, but everybody knows about his problem. I hear he’s really sweet except when he’s drinking. And he often is.”
“I’ve heard some snippets at the Hook and Needle Club. Not a lot, just that he drinks too much and goes kinda crazy,” Annie said, regret in her voice. “It must be hard for Kate. And for Vanessa. I can’t imagine raising LeeAnn without Wayne there to parent with me.”
“Lots of women do it,” Alice said. “Look. Here comes Vanessa. Doesn’t she look grown up tonight?”
As Vanessa approached, Alice’s expression took on a look of longing.
Was this a hidden heartbreak? That Alice had no child of her own?
“Vanessa, you look so pretty tonight. What a beautiful shawl. Another of your mom’s originals?” Alice asked.
“It’s cool, isn’t it?” Vanessa said, shy pride in her voice.
“She made mine too.” Alice pulled her cream-colored wrap off the back of her chair. “I love it.”
“Sweet.” The teen twirled around for them and the long fringe flew out, hitting the back of Annie’s chair. “Oops. Sorry.”
Annie waved away the apology. “Come closer and let me look at that piece of art you are wearing. Your mom is a genius.” The black lacy pattern embellished with hot pink crocheted rosettes complemented Vanessa’s pink party dress. And in the usual Kate Stevens style, the work was exquisite.
“I know. She makes me lots of things. All the girls at school want to be me.” Vanessa preened a little, turning from side to side, allowing the fringe to float. “This one is a present. Today’s my birthday.” She flushed and broke into an infectious grin.
“Happy birthday!” Annie and Alice both burst out their salutations in unison. “So this is your birthday dinner with your folks?” Annie asked.
“Yeah.” Vanessa looked back at her family’s table and waved. “My mom was just telling my dad how you’ve become a member of the Hook and Needle Club, Mrs. Dawson. And,” the teen paused, as if for effect, “I told him you solved mysteries too.”
Annie laughed. “That’s a generous statement, Vanessa. You make me sound like a TV heroine.”
“I bet you could be one--if you had a TV show,” Vanessa said. “Mom told us that you found a World War II secret in your grandmother’s attic. Is that true?”
Inwardly, Annie groaned. But before she could answer that unwelcome question, the waiter appeared at the table to take their orders. Vanessa made her excuses, saying she’d better get back to her parents. First she leaned over and whispered to Annie, “You should try the garlic shrimp. It rocks.”
Derek turned to Annie, poised to record her wishes to memory. Because she’d had no time to look at her menu, she said, “I’ll have the garlic shrimp, please.” If a fifteen-year-old girl said it rocked, it must be fabulous.
“The grilled rainbow trout,” Alice announced, closing her menu with a snap and handing it back to Derek. “My favorite.”
The friends sat back in upholstered chairs and peered out into the night. This had been a good idea.
“You know, Alice, there’s only one thing that could make this evening even better,” Annie said with a little smile.
“What would that be?”
“If we could work on our needlework projects while we wait.”
Alice raised her eyebrows. “You know what that means, don’t you, Annie?”
“No, what?”
Alice sighed wistfully. “That we’re getting old.”
“Almost,” Annie said. “We won’t be truly old until we want our slippers too.”
They laughed and continued in easy conversation until a noise from across the room caused them to stop. Raised voices came from the Stevens’ table. Couldn’t they get through the evening without an argument? And on their daughter’s birthday too? Vanessa sat looking down at her plate, all her joyful expression gone. Annie tried to concentrate on the seaside view, but the voices grew louder and louder. With a screech, Harry pushed his chair backward and stood. He tossed some bills on the table, leaned over, and gave his daughter a brief kiss on the forehead. Then, rushing past the table where Annie and Alice sat, threw a withering glance their way and ran from the restaurant.
Within minutes, Kate had called for the check, placed the bills inside the payment folder, and ushered Vanessa toward the exit. As they walked past Annie’s table, Kate gave Annie a chilly glare.
Annie caught her breath. What had she done?
10
“Excuse me, but what was that all about?” Alice asked incredulously as Derek placed their salads on the table.
“I have absolutely no idea.” Annie was as mystified as her friend. “Could I have hurt Vanessa’s feelings somehow? I sure didn’t mean to.” She picked up her salad fork and, shaking her head, speared a lettuce leaf.
&n
bsp; “I don’t see how. It must have been a look left over from Kate’s encounter with Harry.”
“Didn’t you say he was sweet? Except when he was drinking?” Annie asked. “He didn’t look drunk to me.”
“You probably couldn’t tell if he was,” Alice responded. “But he is nuts about Vanessa.”
“Then why fight on her birthday?”
“Sometimes it seems …” Alice’s words drifted off as she became lost in her reflections.
“What?” Annie asked. “Seems like what?”
Alice appeared to choose her words with care. “Well, I’ve lived here a long while and heard quite a bit of the Stevens’ history. And I hate to say it, but it’s almost as if there’s a black cloud over that family.”
“I don’t understand,” Annie said.
“I think it’s a generational thing. From father to son to grandson. Harry’s the third in line to inherit the alcoholic habit.”
Annie swallowed a mouthful of crisp greens before speaking. “So they all had a drinking problem? Poor Vanessa.”
“Well, that might be overstating it a bit. As I understand it, the grandfather had a terrible problem when he was a young man, but he quit. His son Robert stays sober through a twelve-step program and has worked the family fishing business ever since.”
“And this is the heritage Kate married into? Didn’t she think about that?”
“You know how love is,” Alice said. “Visually impaired and all. Been there myself.” She stabbed a cherry tomato with gusto.
Or maybe anger. Annie wasn’t sure.
“Harry is a great-looking guy,” Alice went on. “Minus the drink, he can even be rather charming.”
“Unfortunately, the charming part was absent tonight,” Annie said.
“Robert’s doing well on his program but just can’t convince his son Harry to go. It’s too bad.”
Annie was silent. Her own family had gone through much pain and loss, but not this kind of trauma. She guessed everyone had their own battle to fight.
“You know,” Alice said, “talking about the Stevens clan makes me think of something. Harry’s grandfather is probably around the same age as your grandmother. Possibly older. I wonder …” She drifted off, as if trying to put her thoughts in order.