by Judith Post
“We could have gotten together later in the afternoon if that would have been better for you,” Thea said, feeling guilty.
“We’re in good shape. The chicken’s done. All the cooks have to do is dish up and send it out. Things will slow down around three, and then we have to clear up and get ready for the supper crowd. I need to be back for that.”
Cynthia hurried into the kitchen to join them. “Sorry. Someone parked across my driveway and I couldn’t get out until he left.”
“An idiot tourist,” Shari said. “Did you yell at him?”
“No, I was in too big of a panic.” Cynthia plopped onto a kitchen chair and reached for a bread stick. “I was beginning to think I was going to have to walk here.”
They all settled at the pine table to eat and talk.
“This is delicious,” Nancy said. “I couldn’t make myself take a bite of the broasted chicken. I’ve looked at it all day.”
“Hank loves it,” Shari said. “He lives for your Saturday special.”
“That’s because you don’t cook for him on the weekends.” Nancy reached for the wine. “He’s desperate.”
Cynthia looked at Thea. “Okay, you wanted to brainstorm. We’re all here. What’s going on in your studio?”
When Thea finished explaining about the bookmarks and the ghost, the room went quiet.
“Are you saying this ghost is killing people on purpose because she’s pissed about something?” Nancy asked.
“That’s my theory, but Aggie thinks a mortal’s involved somehow. I can’t see how. I don’t know how a human could scare a ghost.”
Cynthia added. “Aggie said to look for a mortal who profited from the deaths somehow.”
“No one got rich off of Gabe’s accident,” Nancy said. “Did they?”
“And who’d want to hurt Sheila Grayson? Everyone loved her,” Shari said. “Besides, she doesn’t have anyone left. Her husband and son are both gone. I don’t know who’s going to handle her estate.”
“Exactly.” Thea shrugged. “But you guys meet almost everyone there is in Emerald Hills, even the tourists. If a person’s involved somehow, you’re the ones who’d know.”
Her three friends looked at each other. They all looked blank.
Thea sighed and went to the refrigerator to get the dessert. “I can’t think of anyone either. But if you think of anything, anything at all, let me know.”
“What happens until you figure out who’s doing what?” Shari asked. “Do we all just cross our fingers and hope the new ghost doesn’t tear off our knots?”
“Gabe’s guarding the studio. He won’t let the new ghost in.”
Nancy frowned. “Your Gabe? The guy who fades if he laughs? Is that a good idea?”
“He wouldn’t be dead if she hadn’t pulled his threads.”
Cynthia nodded. “Getting killed could motivate a person. Or ghost. I bet he’s looking forward to finally meeting her.”
Shari took the last bite of her key lime pie. “You know, Gabe was always easy-going, but no one ever pushed him around. He was one of those guys who could think of plenty of ways to get even.”
Nancy thought about that. “You’re right. No one messed with him, not even when he was a kid. I’d say our new ghost has met her match.”
“That’s not enough, though,” Thea said. “Gabe can protect the studio and the bookmarks, but I want to find the ghost and stop her. I don’t want one more person to die before their time.”
When her three friends left, they left with a mission. If anyone could dig up information or find out buried gossip, they were the ones to do it.
Chapter 23
Monday morning started with someone pushing on Thea’s shoulder.
“Wake up. The parade.”
Thea opened bleary eyes. Hannah’s face was inches above her nose.
“Go away.”
“You have to get up. The parade starts in three hours.”
Thea moaned. “What’s wrong with this picture? How far away are we from Shari’s Inn?”
“Fifteen minutes.”
Thea glanced at the clock. “It’s only eight thirty.”
“But I want to get there early,” Hannah said. “Nancy and her kids will be there, too.”
“Even Amy and Justin?” In Thea’s mind, Nancy’s kids were divided into the older pair, seventeen and fifteen, and the afterthoughts, ten and seven.
“Yeah, they’re not like Josh. They still like hanging out with us,” Hannah said.
Nancy’s kids were all naughty, but nice. Ten-year-old Gavin was in Hannah’s class at school, and Sammy, the baby of the family at seven, was the typical tag-along who shadowed Gavin and Hannah everywhere they went. “No one’s going to get there three hours ahead of time,” Thea said. “Go watch cartoons, grab some cereal, and leave me alone.”
“Don’t you have to cook something for the picnic at Nancy’s house after the parade?”
Thea sighed and sat up. She’d answered too many questions and was too awake. No use trying to go back to sleep. “Nancy told Cynthia and me to show up empty-handed. This is one time of the year that she cooks for us, so she said to just enjoy it.”
Hannah grinned. “Good, well, you might as well get ready anyway since you’re awake.”
Thea grimaced. “You’re evil. It’s a good thing I like you.”
Hannah laughed and left the room.
A half hour later, dressed and ready, Thea climbed the steps to the kitchen. Hannah had a bowl of sliced strawberries on the table with a cold piece of toast on a napkin. She put a cup of coffee next to it when Thea stumbled to the table.
“I fixed breakfast for you.”
Thea glared through narrowed eyes. “You’re not tricking me. I’m not rushing through two cups of coffee and dashing out the door.”
“Thea, please. . . “
Thea knew defeat when it was imminent. “Give me until nine thirty, or I’ll start working on my quilt.”
Hannah’s shoulders sagged. “That’s an hour!”
“That’s a compromise. Take it or leave it.”
“I’ll go see what Josh is doing.” Hannah went downstairs to rout Josh from his bed.
Fifteen minutes later, a Josh with dark hair tangled and a pained expression on his face, stomped to the kitchen.
“Our alarm clock pestered you, too?” he asked.
“We wouldn’t want to miss any of today’s fun.”
Josh raised a forbidding eyebrow. “I told Hannah I wasn’t going today.”
“I bet she loved that.”
He ran a hand through his thick hair. “What makes a shrimpy kid think she’s in charge of the house anyway?”
“She’s ten,” Thea said. “It’s not until you’re older that you realize you don’t rule the world.”
His lips twitched. “I guess she’d better enjoy it while she can.”
“So, are you coming?”
“No, even supreme beings give mortals free will. I’m not in the mood for kids running all over. I’m staying home.”
“Chicken shit.”
He laughed. “You don’t have a choice. You have to go.”
Thea nodded. He was right. Nancy’s four kids, plus Cynthia’s Toby, added to Hannah made for a noisy afternoon, but Thea loved it.
Hannah hustled back into the kitchen. “If you came, you could help us catch frogs at the stream,” she told Josh.
He pushed himself out of his chair. “God help me.” He grabbed his mug of coffee and headed out the front door.
“What’s wrong with him?” Hannah asked.
“He’s a moody, young adult. It happens.” Thea carried her dishes to the sink and said, “Ready?”
Hannah forgot Josh and hurried to the car.
*
Nancy and her kids were already there. They had their lawn chairs lined up at the curb, and they had small American flags to wave as the parade passed.
“No Josh?” Shari asked, as Thea unloaded two lawn chairs for her and Ha
nnah and a cooler full of pop and bottled water for everyone else.
“He’s too cool for the parade this year,” Thea said.
“I’m surprised he made it this long. My kids ditched me when they hit late teens.” Shari’s short, dark blond hair was untamed with its natural curls doing as they pleased. She sank into her canvas chair with a sigh. “I know I look a sight, but I went to visit Tillie this morning. I don’t know how much longer I can stand watching that little baby fight to survive, and watching Tillie and Bill is even worse.”
“How’s Tillie doing?”
“She’s a mess. Who wouldn’t be? Will it be much longer?”
“The baby’s thread was really short.”
Shari sighed. “I know this sounds awful, but the sooner it’s over, the better.”
Hank and his mother walked to join them. Barb carried a plate piled high with muffins. “Have you eaten yet?” she asked.
While Barb passed the plate around, Shari whispered in Thea’s ear, “She was up this morning at six thirty, baking and fixing sandwiches for lunch. The woman can’t settle down since she’s retired. She goes and stays with the baby every afternoon so Tillie can have a break.”
Cynthia and Toby arrived, and more chairs were added to the line. The adults settled down to visit until the parade started, and the kids took off to play. By mutual consent, the talk steered to light subjects. An hour passed with easy conversation and lots of laughs.
“Do you think I should start rounding up the hooligans so they get front-row seats?” Hank asked.
Shari nodded, but they were all surprised when Hank came stomping back, fifteen minutes later, with Toby in one hand and Gavin in another. The rest of the kids trailed behind them. “These two were climbing the wrought-iron railings to room 217, so they could watch the parade from the balcony,” he said. “Lucky they didn’t fall and break their necks.”
Cynthia’s eyes went wide. “Toby, I can’t believe you did that! You know better.”
Nancy slapped Toby on the back. “It’s about time! You’re finally turning into a normal kid.”
Cynthia took Toby by the arm and tugged him away from the others, bent low, and lectured him nose to nose. Nancy pointed a finger at Gavin and jabbed at a chair next to hers. “Ass in seat,” she said. “You’re mine now.”
Hannah waited for Toby to return and took a chair next to his. For moral support, Thea decided.
The sirens sounded at the front of the parade and a band started playing its music when Thea tilted her head and let out a sigh.
“Bad timing, huh?” Nancy asked.
“We’ve got to go.”
“Mom!” The word slipped out of Hannah, and she bit it back.
“Let her stay,” Nancy said. “I’ll take her back to the restaurant with me. She can hang out with us until you come for the cookout.”
“Please.” Hannah looked to be near tears.
Thea hesitated. Nancy’s Gavin had a quick temper. He got beat up a lot because he wouldn’t back down from a fight, even with kids lots bigger than he was. “He’s all boy,” Nancy’s husband proudly proclaimed. All boy or not, Thea thought he needed a quick smack on the fanny once in a while. Sometimes, he was even a bully himself, but never with Hannah. He was wary of her.
“You sure?” she asked Nancy.
“What’s one more?” Nancy asked.
“I’d better go.” Thea couldn’t get her car down Ruby Riverwalk with the parade, so she had to walk the short distance to her house. She wasn’t worried. She had plenty of time, she could tell, and she always carried a small, portable loom in her pouch-like purse, just in case. It was no problem, though. She climbed the steps to her studio with plenty of time to spare.
Chapter 24
Gabe was standing, looking out the window, waiting for Thea. He smiled. “Parade day. I used to love that.”
“You enjoyed almost everything,” she teased.
“Yeah, life was good.” He came to stand beside her when she sat in front of the loom.
“Any news?” she asked, readying her fingers.
“Someone started to drift in last night, sensed that I was here, and took off.”
“I’m glad you were here. Who knows who else wouldn’t be around today if it weren’t for you.” She frowned. “I wish you could have seen her, though.”
“I thought of chasing her,” Gabe said, “but I was afraid if she doubled back, I might be too late.”
“We can’t risk it,” Thea said.
They were going to discuss it more when they heard Rachel flying up the steps.
“See you later,” Gabe said and evaporated from sight.
Rachel hurried to her mother’s side. “It’s already stepped on the scales. Sorry I’m so late. We had friends over.”
“You’re here,” Thea said. “That’s good enough.”
The needle settled in place and Thea’s fingers flew over the threads. The bookmark started with strong shades of red--crimson, scarlet, cherry-red, and fushias. “Oh boy, this girl’s going to be a handful. I hope her mother’s ready.”
“Why?”
“Red stands for passion and power, strength and force. This girl has willpower to spare. And she loves drama.”
“That can be good, can’t it?” Rachel asked.
“Wonderful, but she’s going to go at everything full force and be furious when she doesn’t get her way. She’s a born leader, but God help anyone who gets in her way.”
The threads tangled, and Thea wove a series of small knots.
“Look how many there are,” Rachel worried. “I’ve never seen that many.”
The knots varied in size, from tiny to large. “Bound to happen,” Thea said. “It’s part of her personality. For this girl, struggle and challenges are only stepping stones or hurdles, part of the fun.”
“You mean, she’ll like it?”
“Maybe not like it, but she’ll look for it. She wouldn’t be happy if life were too easy.”
Rachel sighed. “Why would anyone choose challenges?”
“To each, his own,” Thea said. “This girl craves action, and she’d be bored if everything fell into her lap. I wonder what her mother’s bookmark looks like. This might be when she has a big knot.”
“Babies shouldn’t be knots,” Rachel said. “They should be bright yellows and happy colors.”
“That’s easy to say till you have one.” Thea smiled. “I bet this mother is crazy about her little girl, and she’s overjoyed to have her, but it’s not going to be easy. This girl’s going to push her all the time.”
“I want an easygoing baby.”
Thea laughed. “Who wouldn’t? I hate to tell you, but you take what you get. What are you going to do, send it back if it has cholic or temper tantrums?” The bookmark was nearly finished, all of it in bright, strong, vivid shades. Right at the end, there was a huge knot, then the life was finished.
“What does that mean?” Rachel asked.
“She’s going out with a bang, probably some kind of newsworthy accident. She’ll like that. She’s not the type who’d want to go with a whimper.”
Rachel watched the bookmark float to its place on the rafters. “I want to die in my sleep.”
“Wouldn’t most of us? Who’d choose to be senile and tied in a wheelchair in a nursing home? But hate to say it, it’s not our choice.”
“That stinks! It all stinks!”
Thea looked at her daughter. Rachel’s face was flushed, and her eyes worried. “Life isn’t fair,” Thea said. “Some people never get any breaks, or the breaks come too late. There’s nothing we can do about that.”
“What would happen if we changed their weave?” Rachel asked.
“Look at your brother. We can’t fix things. It’s not our decision, and you can’t tamper with fate.” Thea gently touched her daughter’s arm. “Besides, you’d lose your job. Or worse, be punished.”
Rachel’s face crumpled. “I hate this! There should be a better way. What kind o
f destiny can be so cruel?”
“You’re asking me for answers I don’t have,” Thea said. “But I do believe that everything happens for a purpose.”
“That’s easy for you to say. You don’t have one knot after another in your bookmark.”
“Okay, you’re right. I don’t always see any purpose in life, like Tillie’s baby. I just don’t get it. But maybe we’re not supposed to.”
Rachel turned to the stairs. “I have to go. Isak and I are painting the rest of the rooms today, so we can move in and call it home.”
Thea stood for a long time after Rachel left, fretting. How was Rachel going to be a good weaver if the destinies she wove constantly upset her? Was there some way to help her distance herself from the bookmarks she’d weave? And if she couldn’t, what then?
Gabe came to stand beside her. He put an arm around her shoulders, and Thea felt some of her burdens lift. They didn’t talk, just took pleasure in each other’s company, until he began to fade.
“Sorry, out of power,” he said.
“Thanks for being here,” she told him.
Chapter 25
There was no reason to return to Shari’s. The parade was almost over, and Hannah wouldn’t want to see her. Thea’s appearance would mean that she couldn’t go back to Nancy’s until the cookout started.
The studio was quiet. Thea went to Josh’s life map and sat down to work on it. Weaving would ease her mind, and hopefully, help her discover some answers. She’d meant to get to it sooner, but things had been too busy. She needed to know what went wrong in Josh’s life map and see if she could remedy it.
She studied the bookmark hanging beside the large loom. The weaving of Josh’s pre-teen years went quickly with happy, mellow colors and only small knots until Josh was almost sixteen. That was the year her mother found a lump in her breast. For the next few months, Thea’s own orange threads formed a wide pattern that wove loosely in and out of Josh’s green threads. She’d been too busy to spend as much time as usual with her own family. A huge, ugly knot foretold the day that Thea found Gabe with Melissa. All four of their colored threads--hers, Josh’s, Rachel’s, and Gabe’s--tangled together in one big mess. A strange, muddled pattern recorded the year of trying to forgive and forget until she reached the place where she asked Gabe for a divorce. A tight, dismal knot marked that day. It was followed by a weave with Gabe’s yellow thread on one border of the bookmark, and her orange on the other. Josh’s green meandered from one color to the other to make a braid back and forth. That was the year that she and Gabe tried to share custody of the kids. Thea studied the design. Josh seemed all right with spending time with one parent and then the other. He must have understood and sympathized with each of them.