by Tara Randel
Peggy glared at Annie. “Stella let the idea for this cultural center drop until you came to town.”
Kate squeezed Peggy’s shoulders. “You can’t blame the timing on Annie. Obviously Stella doesn’t confer with us on every part of her life. She kept this from us for a reason.”
Peggy slumped. “I can’t believe she’d do that.”
“We can’t force Stella to pick,” Mary Beth advised. “Right now she wants to be involved with another pet project. All we can do is support her if she asks.”
“And if she doesn’t?” Peggy leaned away from Kate. “If she thinks we’ve betrayed her somehow?”
“Then she’d be wrong.” Kate rose, returning to the mannequin. “We’ll have to keep in contact with her. Keep connected. We’ll take turns calling her every day.”
Everyone agreed, committing to stay in touch with Stella daily. They may not have said it out loud, but Annie felt like she was the catalyst in Stella’s decision to abandon the group. Stella may not like her, but Annie shouldn’t have made her uncomfortable to the point of leaving, creating a gaping hole in a room full of old friends.
“Listen,” she told the group. “I can finish figuring out this mystery on my own time. If we don’t talk about it, Stella can come back here, and things will go back to normal, right? I’ll even stay away if it helps. I don’t want to be the cause of dissension in the club.” While she didn’t like being the cause of Stella leaving, she liked even less the thought of leaving her newly won friends. She lifted her chin confidently, despite her feelings to the contrary.
“Besides, I have plenty of work to do at Grey Gables. Sprucing up that place will probably take me until the end of the summer anyway. Wally is doing a great job, but if I pitch in more, we may finish ahead of schedule.”
“Then what?” Alice asked.
Annie faltered momentarily before pasting on a self-assured smile. “I guess I go back to Texas.”
The women in the group eyed one another, a silent form of communication that came from years of knowing one another. As much as it intrigued Annie, it also proved she was still an outsider.
She pushed away the profound ache, believing she was doing the right thing for everyone.
Mary Beth finally nodded, understanding the general consensus of the group. “Stella made her choice, Annie, but we still want to help you find out what the cross-stitch means. Betsy was our friend, too. And now you. Please, don’t shut us out.”
Annie considered this quietly. Kate hovered beside the mannequin, fussing with the display while darting frequent glances her way. Gwendolyn stopped knitting, her needles idle as she awaited the answer. Alice stared right at her, an amused grin tilting her lips. Peggy narrowed her eyes. Annie wasn’t sure what that meant.
But she did know that in the short time she’d been here, these ladies had, indeed, become her friends.
“Okay, I’ll stay in the club. As long as we agree not to discuss the cross-stitch in front of Stella any longer. That way, maybe she’ll come back.”
Mary Beth’s face brightened. “Deal.”
“But if we can’t talk about it here, then where?” Kate asked. “This has always been where we talk about our works in progress and other needlecraft ideas. And the Betsy Original is definitely a topic of conversation. How on earth do we talk around it when Stella is here?”
“We find a way, Kate.” Peggy lifted her chin in determination. “I’m all for Stella coming back, and if that means no Betsy Original talk, then we save that for other times when we’re together without Stella.”
“That would work,” Gwendolyn agreed.
“Then it’s settled,” Peggy proclaimed, ever loyal to Stella. “We make this a ‘non-Betsy Original zone’ for Stella.”
“So when can we talk about Betsy’s work?” Kate asked, her brows pinched like a headache was coming on.
Alice shared a knowing look with Mary Beth, who grinned wickedly. “We know just the right time.”
“Really?” Annie asked, curious of the suspicious exchange between her two friends. “What does that mean?”
“Road trip,” Alice and Mary Beth sang out in unison.
12
Road trip unanimously decided upon, Kate suggested looking for the barn. She held one of the pictures in her hand. “I’ve been studying this one, and something seems familiar to me, but I can’t quite put my finger on it.” She held her forefinger and thumb an inch apart. “It’s this close.”
“Since the other two scenes are right here in the area,” Mary Beth concluded, “it would make sense that the other two are also here in Betsy’s stomping grounds.”
Gwen had alternative ideas about the location and wanted to check them out before setting out on their hunt. Since Sunday was the first day they were all free at the same time, they agreed to meet at the shop at eleven. A Stitch in Time would be closed for the day, and Peggy’s shift at the diner didn’t start until later.
Meanwhile, before the road trip, Annie had things to take care of at Grey Gables. Wally had finished the outside work and was ready to tackle the inside of the house. Annie decided to take the rest of the week selecting paint colors to freshen up the living room and kitchen. Not sure what direction she wanted the decorating to go, she invited Alice over on Friday afternoon to help her pick colors.
“I asked you here, Ms. Divine Décor, because I need a professional opinion.” Annie set two steaming coffee mugson the kitchen table, a stack of paint chips in front of them.
“No pressure, I assume?”
“None whatsoever. I need some friendly advice here.”
Alice scooted her chair back to seriously assess the kitchen. “Any idea what look you’re going for?”
“I thought maybe retro Grey Gables. Bring back the theme I remember from when I was a kid.”
“Your grandmother had a theme?”
“Her not having a theme was her theme. She’d get an urge to paint, and she’d paint. Then add wallpaper or a border. As you can see, not much matches in this room anymore. Or any other room in this house, for that matter.”
Alice settled in, all business. “Hmm. Sounds like eclectic country. What do you remember from when you visited?”
“Sunny yellow walls. Calico curtains. Shiny wood floor.”
“It’s going to take plenty of work, but we can start by stripping the wallpaper before we repaint. I’m sure Wally can buff the floor to its original state. And the curtains … we’ll come up with something. After all, we do know a few people who are a whiz at sewing.”
They chatted about redoing the kitchen for a few minutes before Annie asked, “What have you been up to?”
“Booking and preparing for Divine Décor and Princessa parties.” Alice poured sweetener in her mug. “The summer can get pretty busy. I rent a space downtown with my top hostess a couple nights a week. We target tourists and get them to stop in. It’s been a hit, and the regulars like the perks of always having a party booked. It’s a win-win.”
“Good for you. I love seeing successful businesswomen.”
“Wish you were working again?”
“Not right now. I’ve been too busy around here to miss the hectic grind of an everyday job. Although, I loved being a part of something, like I was at the dealership. Owning the business gave me a sense of purpose.”
“And now?”
“Now I have Grey Gables, the Hook and Needle Club, and the cross-stitch mystery to think about. That’s more than enough to fill the hours in the day.”
“Okay, then.”
Annie stared into her coffee and blew out a worried sigh.
“What’s up with you?” Alice laid down the spoon she’d been stirring her coffee with. “You asked me over here for more than just color choices, didn’t you?”
“You got me.” She glanced at Alice. “I’m feeling awful about this Stella thing. I saw her at the post office yesterday. Of course, I made things worse by trying to talk to her. She was polite … but distant.”
> “I have to say, I love Stella, but she can be pretty hard at times. And she can be stubborn once she gets an idea in her head.”
“And right now her idea is that she wants no part of the mystery. Because of me.” Annie’s heart sank. “Why doesn’t she like me?”
“I think that’s a bit strong. She just gets a notion in her head from time to time and runs with it. Maybe she sees you as a threat to her pet project? I don’t know. All she sees is that you came into town, joined the Hook and Needle Club, and drew the girls right into a mystery. A mystery that has gotten a lot more attention than a possible, in-the-works cultural center.”
“I still feel guilty.”
“Annie, don’t let Stella have that power over you. You’re a part of the club, and we’re happy to have you. Stella needs to accept the changes.”
Annie rose and walked to the window, staring out at the backyard. The grass was thriving now that it had been fertilized and watered daily. Late azaleas, lady slippers, and petunias accented the yard with color--plums, pinks, and fuchsias. In a few weeks, Annie planned to go berry picking and try out Gram’s old pie recipes.
Turning, she faced Alice, resting her hip against the counter. “When I came back here, I only meant to tie up Gram’s affairs and quickly decide what to do with the house. I never imagined I’d make friends so quickly. The Hook and Needle Club accepted me with open arms. And I have to admit, I really needed that. My life in Texas had become … monotonous. One day sort of merged into the other, and I’d lost interest in most everything. Even though I have the grandkids, it’s different. Now,” she swept her arms open, “with this place, I look forward to every day as a new adventure. The Betsy Original has had my mind occupied with ‘who?’ and ‘what?’ since the first day I saw it. I won’t be able to leave here until I know the whole story behind it.”
“That’s good, because we don’t want you to leave.”
Annie crossed the room and sat again. “You don’t think I’m obsessing, do you?”
“Why would you ask that?”
“My daughter mentioned it.”
“Why on earth would she think that?”
“Well, I read her my list of clues--”
“You’ve made a list?”
“Sure. I’m detail oriented.”
Alice chuckled. “Go on.”
“And she mentioned that I’d really let this thing get under my skin.”
“You have.” Alice took a sip of her coffee. “In a good way.” She set down her mug, all seriousness now. “Look, I haven’t seen the club this single-minded in a long time. Not since Stella promised us all a trip to New York, and she bailed on us last minute. This is bigger than our yearly project. And we all want to be involved.”
“Almost everyone.”
“I know you think you’ve pushed Stella away, but she gets prickly about new things all the time. The girls want this, need this, maybe. We’re all tied to this town, not in a bad way, but because we love it here. But from time to time people get in a rut. That’s where we’ve been with the Hook and Needle Club. We needed a shake-up. You and Betsy have given us that.”
“So I’m not acting too crazy about the cross-stitch, am I?”
“No. Not any more than Mary Beth. It’s all she talks about.”
“I really should let her come over and see the real thing. I don’t know why I’m hesitating. Once the others see it … I don’t know, it’s like it becomes a piece of history, not just a gift from my grandmother. I’m not ready to share it.”
“But you will eventually?”
“Yeah. Just let me be selfish a little longer.”
“I think the girls can understand that.” Alice’s grin turned cagey. “It makes them more determined to find out who our mystery woman is.”
“We will find out, won’t we?”
“Count on it. Once the Hook and Needle Club set our collective minds together, there’s no stopping us.”
* * *
On Sunday morning, the six women met on the deserted sidewalk outside the shop with to-go coffee cups in hand, courtesy of Annie. She’d stopped at the coffee shop on the way to meet the girls, treating them all to coffee. It was the least she could do since they’d offered to go along with this hunt on their day off.
Gwendolyn was the last to arrive, map in hand. “Sorry I’m late. John wasn’t very happy that I left as soon as Sunday service ended, instead of mingling like we always do. But I assured him Reverend Wallace wouldn’t notice.” Excitement flushed her cheeks. “I couldn’t sleep last night. When was the last time we did something this spontaneous?”
“When we went on that yarn run,” Kate recalled. “We hit every yarn store between here and Portland. Then we stopped for lunch at a pricey restaurant.”
“We should do this more often.” Peggy tugged her purse strap up her arm. Her mood seemed to have lightened since the other day. “Road trips are like mini-vacations. I’ve been ready since Tuesday.”
Alice winked at Annie. “I told you.”
“You did.”
Peggy scanned the parking spaces. “So who’s driving?”
“I am,” Mary Beth replied. “My SUV can seat us all comfortably. Let’s pile in and get this show on the road.”
“Before we go, I want a group picture for my daughter. Since I’ve talked nonstop about the town and you ladies, she wants me to send pictures.” Annie waved them to the window with the stenciled store name--A Stitch in Time--boldly centered behind them. As everyone bunched together and smiled, Annie took the shot. She lowered the camera to check the view box. “Perfect. Now, let’s make tracks.”
“Where to, Gwendolyn?” Mary Beth asked as the vehicle doors closed and she put the SUV in gear.
“I went to the Senior Center the other day and asked around. General consensus was to head inland. If we forgo the highway and stay on the rural roads, we stand a better chance of finding some old barns.” She pulled a map from her bag. “I jotted down the route to an area of farmland I remember driving by once with John. I’m hoping we have success there.”
“I think my grandmother had some cousins who lived in that direction. She might have visited and gotten inspiration for the cross-stitch. Seems as good a place as any to start.”
With that plan in mind, the women headed out of town. Between the chatter and laughter, Annie’s heart swelled. This was a good thing they were doing. For her, it meant forging new friendships. For the others, solidifying the relationships that already existed. In light of the anticipation on each face, this was going to be a successful day, whether they discovered anything or not. Actually finding the barn would be icing on the cake.
Annie had never really spent much time outside of Stony Point, so she enjoyed the sights as much as the lively conversation.
Summer had dressed herself in a glorious palette of color; the variegated greens of sweet summer grass and darker leaves of towering maples. Wild daisies and black-eyed Susans dotted the sides of the road. A bright blue sky held few fluffy clouds. Since viewing the cross-stitch and talking about her grandmother’s work, Annie found herself looking at color differently--with more of an artist’s eye, like Gram. Since coming to Maine, everyday life became less mundane and filled with promise.
As they headed to less populated areas, the land grew more hilly, but no less beautiful. The air grew crisper as they headed into woody areas. Within an hour they met with longer stretches of uninhabited woodland without passing farm houses.
“I think maybe we’ve come too far,” Annie told Mary Beth. “I can’t imagine my grandmother traveling this far away from Stony Point, even if she had relatives out this way.”
“We should find the farms soon,” Gwendolyn muttered as she fussed with the map and notes she’d brought along.
Off the heavily traveled roads, they eventually found the area of farmland that Gwendolyn had directed Mary Beth to, but they grew disheartened when none of the barns they came across resembled the one in the cross-stitch. Whenever
they stopped, a running debate took place about the size or shape of the barn in the photo and whether or not it matched the barn in front of them. So far they’d come up with a big, whopping zero. The women became more subdued with each structure that did not resemble the barn from the cross-stitch.
Finally, Annie said, “We should head back and try searching closer to Stony Point. The beach scene was close to Grey Gables, so the barn must be closer too.”
“I think Annie is right.” Alice backed up her friend’s theory. “Betsy didn’t travel much, especially after her husband passed on. I know we haven’t determined when the cross-stitch was done, but it makes sense that she’d base all the scenes in or around Stony Point. There’s such a … personal feeling to the piece. Maybe it was meant for someone at home.”
“We’ll just keep looking,” Gwendolyn told them, undeterred as she folded the map to place back in her bag. “If Betsy meant for us to locate the scene, then we will.”
Reluctantly, the others agreed. Mary Beth turned the SUV around, but insisted they stop for lunch before returning home. “We’ve come this far. We deserve a break.”
Heading to the main route, they stopped at Lilia’s Tea House--a quaint pink and purple cottage with gingerbread lattice. Once seated, the women regrouped and chatted about their day. Before long, and with the help of a sampling of flavored teas and sugary treats, they got their second wind and the energy to keep searching.
After lunch, the women stopped at a few yarn stores along the route before heading home. It was midafternoon by the time they crossed into Stony Point, passing a group of residential homes clustered together.
“Wait, wait, wait,” Kate cried out. “Pull over.”
On a dime, Mary Beth halted the vehicle. “What’s wrong?”
“I told you I’ve had this nagging sense that I’d seen that barn.”
“Around here?” Gwendolyn looked out the window. “I don’t see anything.”
“Mary Beth, drive around here for a minute,” Kate instructed, her attention focused on her surroundings.