The Stitching Hour

by Amanda Lee

  They left, and Angus came over to me and put his head on my knee. I stroked his head. Claude and Priscilla Atwood were a strange pair—that was for sure. I didn’t think for an instant that they were modern-day vampires, but there was something odd about them. That, or else Nellie had forgotten to take her paranoia with her when she’d left the shop earlier.

  • • •

  Ted called as I was dusting the shelves before closing up shop for the day.

  “Hey, babe,” he said. “What do you want to do for dinner tonight?”

  “Given the day I’ve had, I’d love a quiet evening at home.”

  “Are you hungry?” he asked.

  “Not starving. You?”

  “I can wait. Why don’t I come and get you and Angus, and we’ll go for a walk on the beach before we call it a day?”

  “You always know how to help me relax.”

  When Ted got to the Seven-Year Stitch, he’d changed from his suit into a pair of khaki shorts and a white T-shirt. He patted his chest, and Angus jumped up and planted his front paws on Ted’s shoulders for a hug.

  “Hey, Angus. Have you had a good day?”

  “We’ve had a very interesting day,” I said.

  “Tell me about it on the way.”

  “Would you mind driving?”

  “Not at all,” he said.

  I locked up the Stitch, tossed my keys to Ted, and we all piled into the Jeep. I was glad the Atwoods weren’t around when we left because I wanted to warn Ted about them before I introduced them to him.

  On the way to the beach, I rested my head against the passenger seat and relayed the day, from lunch on, to Ted. So by the time we got there, he knew all about the Atwoods and their invitation to their grand opening party; he knew that Todd was willing to work for brownies; he knew that Nellie Davis believed the Atwoods to be vampires who were going to bring some sort of evil down upon Tallulah Falls; and he knew that Mom was coming for the Seven-Year Stitch anniversary.

  “You’re being awfully quiet,” I said after I’d finished.

  “I’m trying to let all that sink in.” He squeezed my hand. “And here I thought we were about to have a dull moment in good old Tallulah Falls.”

  “Not on your life, sweetheart.”

  “Please don’t say that. Don’t you realize the Atwoods are devising some evil plot even as we speak?”

  I laughed. “Oops. I forgot.”

  Ted pulled into a parking spot, and we got out of the car. He got Angus’s leash, and we walked down to the beach. Angus was pulling at his leash, and Ted unsnapped it and let the dog run. Then he took my hand and we strolled along at a leisurely pace.

  “It’s so beautiful today,” I said.

  “Yeah . . . unseasonably warm . . . no rain. I wish it would last.”

  “Me too.”

  Ted raised my hand to his lips and kissed it. “Look at the ocean. Was today really that bad?”

  I smiled. “No, actually, it was pretty wonderful. I had lunch with a handsome guy, met with Sadie about the refreshments for the open house, got to meet the new neighbors, and learned that Mom is coming for our anniversary party. I’m a very lucky woman.”

  “And I’m a very lucky man.” He let go of my hand. “Climb on.” He turned his back and I hopped on for a piggyback ride.

  We laughed as Ted ran down the beach toward Angus. He spotted us and came to run with us. We had such fun.

  In little more than twenty-four hours, I’d be berating myself for ever thinking this day was the slightest bit stressful. I’d remember what a truly stressful day felt like.

  Chapter Four

  I headed to work the next morning cheerful and looking forward to the Atwoods’ sneak preview. I unlocked the door, turned on the lights, unleashed Angus, and then went back to MacKenzies’ Mochas for the brownies I owed Todd. As I started back up the street, I could see Angus lying in the window chewing on his Kodiak bear, so I slipped over to the other side of the street and ducked into the Brew Crew.

  Todd’s day manager, a beefy young man with a beatific smile, was behind the bar putting away new stock.

  “Morning, Will,” I said.

  “Hey, Marcy. What can I do for you?”

  I placed the bakery box on the bar. “I’m here to make good on a debt I owe Todd. Peanut butter fudge brownies. Make sure he gives you one.”

  “I’ll do it,” he said. “Are you going to the Atwoods’ party this evening?”

  “I am. I can’t stay long—I have a class—but I’m looking forward to seeing what they have in store for us.”

  “Me too. Pam’s not going, though. Everything still makes her sick.” Will’s wife was pregnant.

  I smiled. “Give her my best.”

  “I will. See you later.”

  I hurried across the street, and Angus met me at the door and began sniffing my pant legs.

  “Yes, I’ve been to MacKenzies’ Mochas and the Brew Crew,” I said. “I’ll make it up to you.” I went into the office where I keep a stash of dog treats in my desk. I took out a granola bone. I started to take it back into the shop, but when I turned around, Angus was right there waiting for it. I handed it to him. He took it, turned, and scampered back to the window where everyone passing by could see that he had a treat.

  Before the shop got busy, I called Reggie at the library.

  “I won’t keep you but a second,” I said. “I just wanted to invite you and Manu to go with Ted and me to the Atwoods’ sneak peek of the Horror Emporium tonight. I thought you—well, all of us—could get a better idea of what they’re doing, and you can explain the differences between their exhibition and yours to your patrons.”

  “I don’t know,” Reggie said. “If they’re having some sort of special showing, I don’t want to be a party-crasher.”

  I saw the postal carrier approaching with a box.

  “If I get their okay, would you and Manu go with Ted and me this evening? We don’t have to stay long.”

  Angus rose and sounded the alarm.

  I covered the mouthpiece of the phone. “Shhh. It’s all right.”

  “I hate to be intrusive.”

  “You aren’t being intrusive,” I said. “If anyone is, I am. And trust me—with the Atwoods, I don’t think there’s any such thing as a party-crasher. I’ll call you back as soon as I talk with them.”

  I ended the call and held open the door for the postman while Angus continued barking and stomping his feet, overcome with excitement. Sometimes my mom sent care packages from San Francisco that always included something for him. I knew that with Mom coming to visit us next week, the box wasn’t from her.

  The postman put the box on the floor and then turned and spoke to Angus. “Hey, pal! Whatcha doing? Huh? Think there’s something in one of these boxes for you?” He took a small dog biscuit from his pocket and tossed it to Angus. “There’s a little something.”

  “Thank you, Mel,” I said. “Have a good day.”

  “You too!” He left as Angus noisily crunched the biscuit.

  I opened one box, and Angus hurried to peer inside. It was skeins of embroidery floss. He snorted with disgust and went back to lie by the window. The other box contained key rings with the Seven-Year Stitch logo. I planned to put them in the open house goodie bags. I took the box of floss into the storeroom and began sorting the floss into the proper bins.

  The bells over the door alerted me that someone had entered the shop. I went to greet them and found Christine, one of my regular customers there. She was stooped down, hugging Angus around the neck. Christine is rail thin, and I hoped Angus didn’t tip her over.

  “Hey, there, Christine. How’ve you been?”

  “I’ve been great. What about you?”

  She had face-framing light gray hair and bright eyes, and she seemed to radiate kindness. I was al
ways happy to see Christine walk through the door.

  “I’m good. I’m excited about the open house next week. Even my mom is coming. I don’t think you two have met yet,” I said.

  “I’ll look forward to meeting her.” She smiled, straightened, and brushed off her jeans. “I dropped in because, frankly, I’m nervous about this hardanger class. I’ve never done it before.”

  “You’ll do fine,” I assured her. “It looks harder than it actually is.”

  “If I have any trouble, will you work with me during the days?”

  “Of course, I will.” I put an arm around her. “It isn’t like you to be nervous about a class. What else is going on?”

  Her smile faded, and she sighed. “You know my son Jared has been dating that waitress from MacKenzies’ Mochas?”

  I nodded. “Keira.”

  “Right. Well, she sure had me fooled. I thought she was the sweetest thing! But it turns out, she has a mean streak half a mile wide.”

  “Oh, no. What happened?”

  We walked over to the sofa that faced away from the window. Angus came and sat beside his friend.

  “After Jared’s first marriage was such a disaster, I was truly hoping he could find somebody sweet and wonderful and who would love him as much as he’d love her,” said Christine. “But it seems he keeps making bad choices. This Keira was as nice as pie at first. Then she started making all these demands—on his time and then on his money. And if he couldn’t afford to buy her something she wanted, she’d pout for days. Plus, he wasn’t supposed to question anything she did, but he had to report in where he was and who he was with.”

  “I’m sorry.” I’d known Keira was a nasty piece of work when Jared had taken an interest in her. I’d started to say something, but I’d felt that it wasn’t my place. I’d thought that maybe Keira was so hateful to me because she simply didn’t like me. Back when Sadie had been trying to fix me up with Todd, Keira had her eye on him. She saw me as a threat and had despised me. “So have they broken up?”

  “He’s been trying to break things off with her for weeks,” she said. “But Keira keeps calling and pleading with him to take her back. ‘And, oh, by the way, my rent is due and I’m short this month.’ It makes me furious.”

  “Surely, Jared can see that she’s using him.”

  “Of course he can. But he’s so bighearted that he feels sorry for her.” Christine gave Angus another hug. “He tells me that he’ll help her out just this one last time, and then he’ll be rid of her for good. And he is . . . until she calls again.” She looked at the dog. “You’re excellent therapy, you know that?”

  “Isn’t he, though? He’s probably saved me a fortune in counseling.” I laughed.

  “You’re good therapy too. It’s nice to have someone you can trust to share your feelings with.”

  “And to try to come up with eligible ladies Jared might take an interest in,” I said.

  “That too,” she said with a giggle.

  Angus stood and went to the door.

  “Uh-oh. Somebody needs to walk up the street. Christine, we’ll be right back.” I went to the counter and grabbed Angus’s leash.

  “I have to run, sweetie. I’ll talk with you later. Thanks for the shoulder.”

  “Anytime,” I said. “Here.” I handed her one of the key rings from the box on the counter. “You’re the first to own an original Seven-Year Stitch key ring.”

  She smiled as she looked at the key ring. “This is adorable. Thank you!”

  “You’re quite welcome.” I snapped the leash onto Angus’s collar, and we went up the street toward the town square. Christine headed toward MacKenzies’ Mochas. I wondered if she planned to give Keira a piece of her mind.

  I took Angus up to the town square. Dark clouds were gathering overhead, and I was glad he made this a quick trip.

  When we walked past the Horror Emporium, I poked my head inside the door. “Claude! Priscilla! It’s Marcy Singer.”

  “Good day, Marcy,” Priscilla said, coming from behind a curtain that divided the shop in half. Her tangerine hair was piled on top of her head, and she wore a black carpenter’s apron over her slacks and frilly blouse. She wagged her finger at me. “No peeking yet!”

  “I didn’t intend to . . . honest. I just have a question for you and Claude. Would you mind if I bring Rajani Singh—Reggie—and her husband, Manu, to the party this evening?”

  “I would be delighted to have them accompany you.”

  “As it happens, Reggie is our librarian,” I said. “The library puts on a haunted house each year for the children—nothing that could possibly compare with Haunted Emporium, I’m sure. It’s an annual fund-raiser. I wanted Reggie to be reassured that the Haunted Emporium won’t be for the faint of heart.”

  “Not even for the tremulous of heart. We pride ourselves on catering to brave—somewhat foolhardy—adults.” Priscilla laughed. “Our wicked exhibits are not for the eyes of innocent children. We turn away anyone under fourteen years of age. But we’ll happily post a flyer for the library’s event for our patrons who have small children.”

  “How nice of you! Thank you. I’ll certainly pass along your generous offer to Reggie.”

  “I’d love to chat longer, Marcy, but I must get back to tonight’s preparations,” Priscilla said.

  When Angus and I walked back into the shop, Sadie had taken Christine’s spot on the sofa. Before I could greet her, she began talking.

  “I’m beginning to regret signing on to do the Horror Emporium’s concessions. It seemed like such fun, you know? It wasn’t going to be that much work. One waitress each evening would get to leave the hassle of her regular shift to work the stand. It would be great, right?”

  “I’m thinking . . . not . . . right?”

  “Right! I mean, yes. Correct.” She growled, and Angus gave her a wide berth as he went to the office to get a drink of water. “The Atwoods called yesterday and informed me that they’d decided to have an impromptu party this evening. Naturally, they need food for that. Plus, one of our waitresses called in sick this morning, so the rest of the staff is swamped. I’ve asked Keira to oversee the Atwoods’ party, and you’d think I’d asked her to volunteer for a root canal.”

  “I’m sorry. It appears that Keira has put herself at the top of everybody’s hit list for the day.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  I told her about Christine’s visit and Jared’s drama with Keira.

  She rolled her eyes. “That sweet boy should’ve known a shark like Keira would eat him alive. I mean, she’s a decent waitress, but she’s manipulative, narcissistic, and selfish.”

  “I told Christine I’d try to help her come up with eligible bachelorettes for Jared.”

  She smiled slightly. “I’ll help. As a matter of fact, you think he might be interested in running the concession stand at the Horror Emporium? He might meet some girls working there.”

  “Hey, that’s not a bad idea.”

  “I’m kidding . . . kind of.” She groaned. “I’m going to slip out the back. It’d would be just my luck to run into the Atwoods on the street and have them ask me to cater the renewal of their wedding vows tomorrow morning or something just as outrageous.”

  “Okay.” I smiled. “I’m here if you need me later.”

  “Thanks.” She hurried through the shop and out the back door of the building.

  • • •

  After Sadie left, I got out my phone and called Reggie. She didn’t answer, so I left her a voice message letting her know that the Atwoods would be delighted to have her and Manu join Ted and me at the sneak peek and that they would even post a flyer for the library’s haunted house.

  A young woman came in. Angus pegged her for a dog lover right away and bounded over to welcome her.

  “Oh, my goodness! What a huge dog
!” She laughed and petted his head.

  “Welcome to the Seven-Year Stitch,” I said. “I’m Marcy, and that’s Angus, our goodwill ambassador.”

  “He’s gorgeous,” she said. “I’ve never seen a dog this big. Are people ever put off by him?”

  “If he makes anyone nervous, I put him in the bathroom,” I said. “He’s a sweetheart, but some customers do get intimidated by his size. May I help you find anything in particular?”

  “I’m actually looking for cross-stitch pattern books. I’ve only recently discovered embroidery, and I’m eager to do new projects.” She smiled. “I think I might’ve finally found a hobby I can stick with.”

  “I hope so. What other hobbies have you tried?”

  “Well, let’s just say baking didn’t pan out for me. But I did meet an awfully nice fireman.”

  I laughed. “Every cloud does have its silver lining.” I pointed her in the direction of the cross-stitch pattern books and told her about the current classes being taught on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays. “The beginning hardanger class is tonight, and although it has been going on for a couple of weeks, I’d be happy to help you get caught up.”

  “I appreciate that, but for now I’ll stick with cross-stitch.”

  As she perused the books, I went over to the counter to let her browse in peace. I saw Todd jogging across the street. I figured he was going to MacKenzies’ Mochas, and I waved at him. Instead of turning in the direction of the coffee shop, though, he came on into the Stitch.

  The young woman looked up when the bells over the door jingled, and Todd winked at her. Her cheeks pinkened.

  He was an incorrigible flirt. I wondered if Audrey knew and how she felt about that. Not that it was any of my business. Todd was Todd, and he needed a woman who would accept him the way he was.

  “Hey, there,” I said. “How are you this morning?”

  “Probably five pounds heavier, thanks to you,” he said. “I’d have said six if you hadn’t told Will to make me share. Thanks for the brownies.”

  “I owed you.”

  “Indeed you did.” He double tapped the counter, so Angus would jump up and put his paws on it. He then turned and talked with Angus as if they were the only two in the store. “Is she behaving herself today? No? I thought not. But . . . hey . . . whatcha gonna do, right? Play ball, I guess. Where’s your ball? Huh? Let’s go get it!”