by Tara Randel
Annie concluded that Stella just didn’t think much of newcomers. She certainly couldn’t change the woman’s mind if it was set. But could it be something else? Creative jealousy of Betsy, perhaps, that she, Stella, hadn’t made a name for herself?
As she drove to town, the uneasiness she felt concerned her. And not just about sharing the pictures. It came from not knowing what the group had in store for her this time. She never knew what they’d say at any given moment. Sometimes they hurt Annie’s feelings; other times they inflamed her temper. But judging by their interactions, they did that to each other as well. And if they treated her the same way they treated each other, did that make her one of their own? Perhaps she’d been welcomed into the group more than she realized. The notion warmed her heart and did away with her imminent worries.
As soon as she walked into the shop, Mary Beth raced up to her.
“Did you bring the picture?”
“Yes.” She laughed as Mary Beth dogged her steps to the circle of chairs. “And hello to everyone.”
The women, all there early as usual, nodded in return, expectation stamped on their faces. Stella refused to look in Annie’s direction, but Annie ignored the slight. Annie could play that game as well. She might not like lowering herself that way, but she’d do it for now. Intending to be careful about revealing too much, she removed only the full-view photo from her bag and handed it to Mary Beth.
Mary Beth walked to the wide window where the morning sun poured in and stared at the photo in her hand. After a few moments, Kate joined her.
“What do you think?” she asked as Mary Beth handed the picture to her.
“It looks like Betsy’s style.”
“Of course it does,” Annie confirmed, annoyance creeping into her voice. “I told you it’s my grandmother’s work.”
Kate glanced guiltily at Annie. “We just want to be sure.”
Just as Annie suspected. She hadn’t even been able to get them to see her side since Stella had convinced the group that this newest find might not be an original. She walked over to the window, gently removing the photo from Kate’s grasp. “Does anyone else want to take my word on this, or do you need to see the picture to be sure?”
Peggy set down the piece of gingham she was cutting into different shapes for her quilt, curiosity burning in her eyes. “I’d like to see it.”
Annie walked over and handed it to Peggy. She inched closer to Gwendolyn, their heads together.
“Wow. This is something,” Peggy murmured.
Gwendolyn nodded. “I’ve seen Betsy’s work, and I have to say this is just as good as anything she’s ever done. I could never have done any better.”
Pride swelled in Annie. These women may have had their doubts, sown by Stella, but they appreciated the work. “Yes. I believe this is her finest piece.”
Mary Beth and Kate joined the other women, and they continued to comment about the cross-stitch. Annie sat, took out her crocheting, and picked up where she’d left off on the blanket. She’d fallen behind, spending all her energy whipping Grey Gables back into shape. Usually crocheting soothed her, but today her nerves were on edge. She chanced a quick peek in Stella’s direction, but the woman knitted away, her pace faster than normal, her eyes downcast. She missed a stitch, stopped to fix her mistake, let out an impatient sigh before she continued on. Annie secretly smiled. She guessed Stella wasn’t pleased at the group’s reaction to the cross-stitch.
The door burst open and Alice rushed in. “Sorry I’m late. I overslept.” She stopped short when she saw the women huddled in conversation. “You showed them?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“They like it.”
“Like it?” Mary Beth laughed. “That’s an understatement. What a wonderful legacy to own a newly discovered Betsy Original.”
“Hmph,” came from Stella’s direction.
Annie refused to respond, even though the woman’s stubbornness needled her.
“What are these smaller images around the woman?” Gwendolyn asked as she focused through her bifocals.
“They’re different scenes. A storefront, beach, barn, and house.”
Peggy squinted. “I wish we could see them better.”
“Do you think you could take close-ups of each scene?” Kate asked, her attention still focused on the photo.
“Already ahead of you.” Even though she was opening herself up to more criticism, she took out the blown-up shots from her purse.
“We haven’t been able to figure out the scenes,” Alice said as Annie passed the photos around. “We thought if Annie blew them up, some of you might be able to recognize them.”
“If they are local spots, I don’t see why not,” Gwendolyn looked up and smiled at the store owner. “So much for your summer project idea, Mary Beth. I think we found a new one to keep us busy.”
Mary Beth looked through the other photos. “And I’m all for it.”
“That’s enough.” Stella dropped her needles and glared at the group. “We will not stop our project idea to hunt for places that may or may not exist. This is ridiculous. So what if Betsy had a hidden cross-stitch in her attic. She kept it there for a reason and I, for one, say it should go back.”
Every woman stared at Stella; her cheeks flushed red and her usually elegant posture tight with tension.
“I think everyone wants to be a part of this mystery,” Annie said quietly.
“Not me. Not for one minute.”
Confusion creased Mary Beth’s brow. “Don’t you even want to see it?”
“Not only do I not want to see it, I don’t want to discuss this any longer.”
“C’mon, Stella,” Peggy implored. “We can’t ignore it.”
Stella shook her head, her features tight as she dug her feet in.
“Then perhaps we should put it away,” Gwendolyn suggested as she handed the photos back to Annie.
Silence fell over the room as each woman picked up her needlework. Annie swallowed her disappointment. Had she expected otherwise? Once again, Stella ruined the moment and the women let that happen by not standing up to her. Clearly they were as drawn to the piece as Annie, yet deferred to Stella. As long as Stella was around, she’d get nowhere in identifying the cross-stitch. And as the outsider, she couldn’t coax them to do otherwise. Sad, really, but not surprising.
Determined to get the meeting back on track, Gwendolyn asked in general, “What are everyone’s plans for the Fourth?”
The three-day weekend would start the summer crush. If years past were any indication, Annie knew there’d be plenty of barbecues, picnics, and loud cherry bomb explosions. A welcome day off from work and firework celebrations on Friday night always drew a crowd, but a chance to enjoy a few days at the beach kept folks here for an extended stay.
“We’re open the entire holiday weekend,” Peggy groused. “But at least we’re closing the diner early on Friday for the big fireworks show.”
“I’m working Friday too,” Kate sympathized. “And Saturday.”
“With all the tourists in town, we need to take advantage of the foot traffic. Sorry, Kate,” Mary Beth apologized.
Kate waved her off. “It’s not like I had plans anyway. Besides, Vanessa agreed to come in for a few hours both days. I’ll be happy to spend time with her. Late Friday afternoon I’ll probably help Reverend Wallace out at the church welcoming booth.”
“The bank is sponsoring a booth in the park too,” said Gwendolyn. “Friday’s a big tourist day. We’re giving away mugs printed with the bank logo. Not very original, but it makes John happy.” She sighed. “I had hoped we could get away from the crowds this weekend, but John takes his bank business seriously. No exotic locales for us.”
“Like any of us can afford some place exotic,” Peggy sighed wistfully. “Most people find a beach getaway romantic. We have a beautiful beach right here, but do we take advantage of it? No, we spend our time making sure other people enjoy a romantic weekend.�
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Kate turned to Annie, her eyes shadowed as she said, “Peggy and Wally’s ten-year anniversary is next week.”
Peggy got a far-away look in her eyes. “Just once, I’d love to go somewhere special. My mom even offered to watch Emily, but Wally’s too busy. We need to take advantage of any work that comes his way right now.”
Annie watched Kate for a few moments. As much as she tried, Kate couldn’t hide the pinched look around her eyes as Peggy spoke about her anniversary. Another wounded soul when it came to love, Annie thought. We should start a new club.
“I’ll bet Stella has stories about special vacations. Didn’t you travel with your husband?” Peggy asked.
“We did, from time to time, but Seymour was a very busy man.”
“Just living in New York City must have been exciting,” said Gwendolyn who imagined the life. “The Broadway shows. Central Park. Shopping. John and I traveled there a few years ago for a bank convention. While he met with other bankers, I shopped. We took in a play and had dinner at Tavern on the Green. You must have loved living there, Stella.”
“Yes. Yes, wonderful. I was involved with many charitable organizations over the years, sat on the board of one of the art museums. I was responsible for several artists showing their work before reaching critical acclaim.”
“And from what I’ve heard, your husband was quite a catch.”
“I suppose so.” She shrugged it off, but pride shone in her eyes. “I was fortunate to marry into the Brickson family. Our families were old friends. We were the same age.” She shrugged again, her eyes giving away nothing. “It worked out for everyone.”
Alice leaned over to Annie and whispered, “That’s the most she’s ever shared at one time.”
Annie glanced over at Stella, expecting to see the older woman’s face softened by fond memories. Instead, Stella remained all business. And Annie couldn’t help but wonder why. Maybe Stella’s life hadn’t been as wonderful as she made it out to be.
“I’ve always wanted to get down to New York. There’s a textile exhibit I want to see,” Mary Beth said as she straightened up the fabric-cutting table, getting ready for the teen quilting class later that afternoon. “But business has been good, and I haven’t had a chance to get free.”
“I told you I’d watch the store,” Kate reminded her.
“I know. I just hate to leave.”
Kate grinned mischievously. “Mary Beth thinks the store will fall to pieces if she’s not here.”
“It’s certainly not that I don’t have faith in you,” Mary Beth rushed to assure Kate. “This is my life. I have a hard time walking away.”
Peggy rolled her eyes. “You sound like Wally.”
Just then the door opened. Two customers came in, and Mary Beth walked over to assist them. Minutes later the phone rang and Kate went to answer it.
“Now you see why she won’t leave,” Gwendolyn observed.
“And we have a mystery to solve,” Alice added, bringing the conversation back to the Betsy Original. “Why would she want to leave? She might miss something.”
“I agree,” Gwendolyn said. “You know, I’d love to see Betsy’s cross-stitch in person.”
“Are you sure we can’t convince you to bring it to the store?” Kate joined the conversation as she returned from the call.
Annie stole a peek at Stella. If she guessed correctly, those were thunderclouds forming in her eyes. “I don’t want to take it from Grey Gables right now.” She offered nothing more.
“I wonder what Betsy wanted you to do with it.” Peggy fit two pieces of fabric together with a straight pin.
“That’s enough for one day,” Stella declared as she stuck her needles into the ball of yarn. “Mary Beth, please call Jason.”
“So soon? We haven’t finished our meeting.”
Stella began packing away her supplies. “Yes, right now.”
Annie’s heart double-tripped. Was Stella leaving because of her? Her intention hadn’t been to upset the older woman, even though she couldn’t hide her frustration, but obviously any conversation about this new Betsy Original wasn’t going to sit well with Stella.
Mary Beth hurried across the room to the phone as Stella stood.
“I’ll wait outside.” And with that, Stella marched across the hardwood floor and exited the store.
“Wow.” Peggy rose with a worried expression and went to the window. “I don’t think she’s ever done that before.”
Great. Annie glanced quizzically at Alice, but Alice merely shrugged.
“Well, my dear,” Gwendolyn looked directly across the circle at Annie, a bit of humor wrinkling around her eyes. “You’ve certainly brought a bit of excitement into our lives.”
* * *
Kate straightened up the how-to book section, the first item on her to-do list in the now-empty shop. The Hook and Needle Club members had all left after the meeting and Mary Beth had gone home for lunch, leaving her alone with her thoughts during this rare break in business.
Rehashing the events of the morning, Kate realized that since Annie had arrived, the fabric of the club had raveled around the edges. The welcome element of change was long overdue. They’d all gotten into a rut, but now, with a mystery to solve, Kate found herself looking forward to meetings that had become dull and predictable. She chuckled out loud. Today certainly wasn’t typical. They had the cross-stitch pictures to figure out, and Stella had walked out in a huff. Yes, today had been far from the norm, and Kate found she liked it that way.
Returning to the front counter, she noticed the photos Annie had left beside the cash register. Mary Beth had hogged them, reluctant to put them down until she finally decided to go home for an hour. Now, Kate could finally study the close-up of the young lady.
What was it about her? The air of mystery? The longing that Betsy had so effectively captured? Betsy had truly been an artist. With a twinge in her chest, Kate realized how empty the world seemed without her.
They’d clicked the moment Kate met Betsy right here in A Stitch in Time. She’d been newly married and desperately in need of a hobby, seeing as how Harry had demanded she stay home from work and be a homemaker. Betsy had taken her under her wing and taught her to crochet. You’d think Betsy was her grandmother, the way she’d complimented and cheered Kate on. Through Betsy’s prodding and insisting that Kate had talent, Kate discovered she was really good. With her uplifting words or a gentle touch, Betsy always restored Kate’s flagging spirits when she needed it most. A special bond had formed, one that Kate would miss always.
Fanning through the photos, Kate focused on the scenes. Something on the edge of her memory stirred, only to slip away as the door opened. Peggy came dashing in, dressed in her work uniform.
“Have you heard from Stella? I’ve been calling, but Jason says she won’t come to the phone.”
“I haven’t talked to her. Mary Beth tried, but she got Jason as well. Seems she has her mind set on being difficult.”
“She’s not difficult, she’s … misunderstood.”
Kate puffed out an exasperated breath. “When are you going to stop letting Stella influence you?”
“Oh, like you should talk. You always had Betsy to pal around with.”
“So Stella is your Betsy?”
Peggy jutted her chin. “Maybe.”
“That’s so like you to act juvenile.”
“And it’s like you to take Betsy’s side.”
“Side for what?”
“This cross-stitch mystery.”
“I’m not taking sides. I’m excited about figuring out who the young woman is.”
“Even if it upsets Stella?”
“She isn’t interested in helping. That’s her choice.” Kate tidied up the area around the register, straightening the contents of the pencil holder, making sure the business cards lay neatly in the holder, anything to keep busy as she quarreled with Peggy. “Maybe Stella didn’t like Betsy. Who knows? Now Betsy’s getting all the attent
ion, and Stella doesn’t like it.”
“That’s why we have to be patient with her. She needs us.”
“But she always gives us a hard time.”
“Because she’s lonely.”
Kate stared hard at Peggy, convinced by Peggy’s insight, though Kate didn’t want to admit it. Stella was a member of their club, but she always hovered on the fringes, never revealing the real person or making a true, honest connection with the other women.
“So what do you suggest we do?” Kate noticed Peggy’s wary expression and laughed. “What? You were expecting me to disagree?”
“You usually do.”
“You have a valid point, so I’m willing to listen.”
Obviously surprised at Kate’s answer, Peggy took a moment to regroup. “It’s pretty clear that Stella doesn’t want to help us with the cross-stitch, whether it has anything to do with Betsy or the fact that Annie has recently come to town. Even if she decides to stay away from the club for a while, we need to keep inviting her anyway. To show her we care.”
Kate had always thought Stella’s actions hinted at a needy soul, but when it came right down to it, Stella was a part of the club. Their friend. “We can do that.”
Relief washed over Peggy’s features. “I need to get to work. My shift is starting. Promise you’ll tell the others.”
“I will. Get going before you’re late.”
“Thanks.” Peggy swept out the door, headed for the diner. Kate couldn’t help but grin.
Peggy. The human cyclone. Whirling in with her demands, then whirling back out. Yet her heart was always in the right place.
Okay, the least they could do was call Stella regularly. But Stella’s reticence wouldn’t keep Kate from helping with the mystery. She picked up the photo, trying to catch that elusive wisp of recognition she felt earlier. She focused first on the storefront, then the beach, then the barn.
The barn. She couldn’t ignore the kick of adrenaline. Had she seen it before, or was it just like one of the many barns dotting the New England countryside? Before she could decide on an answer, a group of women strolled in.