Half Finished

by Lauraine Snelling

  “Possibly, if she wants me to. Perhaps Addy is going to stay with her, not sure yet. But I’m here for tonight for sure.” She sipped from her glass with one hand and held the phone with the other.

  “I’ll gladly come get you.”

  “I know. Ginny volunteered too.” Amalia looked around her apartment. It seemed small again after having been back in a big house for those days. But still her place felt like home. At least here, she knew where everything was, well mostly. But working out in that glorious yard and garden, in addition to the house, had been such a privilege. “I’ll call you.”

  MJ nodded. “This UFO thing is providing benefits I wouldn’t have guessed. See you later.” They clicked off and Amalia sat a moment in quiet aloneness.

  Her stomach informed her that it was suppertime. Taking a burrito out of her freezer, she popped that in the microwave.

  To go or not to go, that was the question. Face it, old woman, you’re afraid you might miss out on something. She spooned a dollop of sour cream on her plate, one of salsa, and careful to use a pot holder with the burrito, unwrapped it and took her plate out to her two-person round table on the lanai. The laughter of children playing on the playground across the street, birds singing in the tulip tree between her and the street, and a dog barking, all the sounds of her home. She loved it.

  She almost ignored the chime of her cell phone but, when she saw it was Ginny, picked it up.

  “Addy and I are down in the parking lot, waiting for you.”

  “Really.”

  “You don’t want to go?”

  “Come on, Miss Amalia,” Addy piped in. “I baked your favorite cookies.”

  How could she resist that girl voice? “I would like to finish my burrito first.”

  “We’ll wait.”

  So much for that. She cleaned the sour cream up with the last bite of burrito and heaved a sigh. “Sorry, Mr. Grump, I need to go.” She slid the screen door shut behind them, locked it, and set her plate in the sink. Grabbing the bag that held the sweater she’d nearly finished, she ordered the cat to behave and was out the door again. “I’ll be back in a while,” she answered the plaintive cry.

  “I’m glad to see you decided to go,” she told Ginny as she slid into the front sidekick seat.

  “I begged and pleaded. After all, what would we do with all the cookies we baked today?” Sometimes Addy could become rather dramatic.

  “There is such a thing as a freezer.” Ginny checked both ways and pulled out on the street.

  “There are already a lot of cookies in your freezer and at Addy’s house too,” Amalia reminded her. “You could wrap up small plates and give them to those who live in my building. Some of them haven’t had homemade cookies for who knows how long.”

  “That’s a good idea.”

  “Uh-oh. Guess we’re parking in the back.” Ginny drove around the block and into the alley behind the store. Gathering up all the containers of cookies and their projects to work on, the three entered through the back door of the store, the hubbub already well under way.

  “Saved your places.” MJ met them at the coffee table. “We have more new people too.”

  Addy tucked the lids under the proper containers and followed Ginny to the table. “How about I sit on the floor, like last time?”

  “You sure?”

  “That way you can look down and make sure I am doing it right.”

  MJ stood and raised both her hands and her voice. Addy stuck two fingers in her mouth and blasted away. “Thanks, Addy.”

  “Welcome to you new people, glad you could join us. I hope you all picked up a name tag at the door. So, raise your hand if you found yourself working on your project during the week when before you would not have?”

  A lot of hands went up, and a rush of chuckles swept around the room.

  “Did anyone finish the project you brought last week?”

  Three hands went up.

  “I hope you brought them so that you can have your picture taken for the bulletin board and all the rest of us can be jealous. Please stand and hold yours up and tell us if you can remember when you started that particular piece.” She pointed to the woman closest to her. She stood and held up the quilted table runner. “I started it at least two Novembers ago and then it got misplaced and I…” She rolled her lips together and nodded. “Busted, eh? But it is done and I am going to wrap and label it so I can give it away for an early Christmas gift. I would like a whole shelf of wrapped packages like that.” She bobbed her head at the applause that commended her.

  “Now, that is both a fine idea and a grand challenge for some of the rest of us.”

  The next said, “A bridal shower gift, a week of embroidered dish towels, she’s only been married a year.” More chuckles, whispers, and applause.

  “And you, sir?”

  He held up a carved bowl. “Not sure when I started it, but it was done except for the finish. Kind of the story of my life.” He sat down to applause, giggles, and a snort or two.

  “Please join my husband, Daryl, the guy with the camera, back by the bulletin board. He’ll print the pictures and have them posted by next week. Anyone have a Polaroid camera by any chance? No? Oh, and the weekly newspaper wants a picture of the finished things each week to go with a column. Guess this concept is intriguing a lot of people.”

  “When is the morning group meeting?”

  “Second and fourth Thursdays at nine thirty, at the senior center in one of the classrooms. Any other questions? All right, the coffee and cookies are ready, thank Addy Clarkson—raise your hand, Addy. She’s sitting here on the floor.” Addy turned around and waved.

  Someone else raised her hand.

  “Yes?” MJ asked, acknowledging the woman.

  “Does she take orders for cookies?”

  “I don’t know. Addy?” Addy shrugged and looked to her grandma.

  “They’ll get back to you. And now, let the work resume.”

  The buzz of conversation rose immediately. There was not a lot of room to go get coffee and cookies but somehow they managed.

  MJ dug out her crewel. “I’m glad I sorted through and straightened the yarns for my flowers. They were pretty globbed together.”

  “When did you have time to work that far?” Roxie looked over her shoulder.

  “Been at this almost every evening. Daryl’s been working in his shop and I decided to sit in the rocker on the front porch. Got to visit with a couple of neighbors, dual success. Once it got too dark out there, I moved in front of the TV and made Daryl turn on a movie.”

  Loren nudged her mother. “Look who’s here.”

  Roxie looked up at the two men who had just walked in the door. “Well, I’ll be.”

  “You know them?” MJ asked.

  “I—we do. That’s Rich and Nate Owens. I bought my rug from Nate at The Fond Furniture. Rich is his dad.”

  “You’d never guess by looking at them.” Amalia said it sarcastically.

  “They do look a lot alike, don’t they?” Roxie went back to her work.

  “You know, someone told me she saw Loren biking along the lake with a real good-looking guy.” MJ stared at the top of Loren’s head as she bent over her crocheting.

  “Well, blast.” Loren grumbled a bit more. “I hate ripping out.”

  “What did you do?” Amalia asked.

  “Seems I can’t even count right.”

  “Let me see.” Amalia reached for her work as Roxie and MJ stood to walk over to the newcomers. Amalia could clearly hear the exchange.

  Rich smiled at them. “You need a bigger place to meet. I see you are fast at whatever that is you’re doing.”

  Roxie smiled back. “Thank you, I try.”

  MJ waved an arm. “We do have more chairs; the guys seem to be congregating in that corner.” But then two more newcomers entered, so MJ went off to greet them.

  Rich was still smiling. “Okay, we’ll go join them, but we plan on going out for coffee or ice cream or
something afterward. We’d like you to come along,” he said to Roxie.

  “I’d like that. I’m sure Loren will too, especially if it’s ice cream.”

  Roxie gave them name tags and took them to the men’s group. “Please, all of you, introduce yourselves, and remember, there is coffee, tea, lemonade, and lots of cookies.” She leaned closer. “Addy Clarkson baked most of them. She’s the girl sitting between MJ and Ginny. She thrives on compliments.”

  One of the men snorted. “What woman doesn’t?”

  “On that note, I’ll get back to my work.” She returned to where MJ, Amalia, and Ginny were working.

  “How do you know him?” MJ asked with a slight tone of accusation.

  “He invited us out to his house for dinner.”

  Amalia studied Roxie very subtly. A mild blush rosied her cheeks. That tickled Amalia. Roxie was still too young to be a hermit.

  “Did you have a good time?” MJ asked. Asked? Pried, as far as Amalia was concerned.

  “We did, and we had wonderful food. Perfect day for eating outdoors.”

  “And?”

  Roxie shrugged. “We talked and ate and came home.”

  Amalia could see Roxie’s unease, so she stepped in. “And that young man is who was seen biking with Loren.” It wasn’t a question.

  Roxie nodded and sent her a pleading look with a glance at Loren.

  Amalia nodded, slowly but with a stealthy wink.

  Thank you, Roxie mouthed back to her.

  Amalia watched Ginny, trying to gauge how she was doing. She didn’t have much to say, but the baby afghan was growing in her lap. She kept leaning over to help Addy with the dishcloth she was learning to knit, but the wrinkles in her forehead gave her away. Hang in there, Ginny. The more often you do things out in public like this, the easier it will get. Turning into a mole slows the healing down. She well remembered; she’d tried both ways.

  “But, Grandma, what did I do wrong?” The plaintive cry made Amalia smile.

  Ginny pointed to the dropped stitch. “Now we can use a crochet hook to pull it up and put it back on the knitting needles.”

  Addy handed her the yarn and needles. “Remind me why I wanted to learn to do this.”

  “Because your grandma makes it look so easy. I got hooked the same way.” Loren shook her head. “But for me it was crocheting. She said it was easier.” She gave her mother a look with a slight headshake.

  Addy grinned at her. “And now you are doing pretty good.”

  “Most of the time. Until I try something new. Like this.” Loren held up her piece. “I can’t seem to make it come out right when I’m going to turn.”

  “Here, Addy, I’ll show you how to catch the dropped stitch.” With no effort, Ginny snagged the stitch with the hook and slipped the knitting needle through the loop.

  “Seems ripping out is easier.”

  “You caught it before you did too many more rows, but if you hadn’t, that might be true.”

  Addy shook her head. “Baking cookies is lots easier.”

  “It wasn’t when you first started, remember?” Ginny laid her knitting down in her lap. “The egg broke on the floor and I made you clean it up.”

  “And I had trouble with the measuring spoons. I remember, but I don’t think I will ever be able to knit and talk at the same time like all of you do.”

  Amalia laid her work on the table and stood up. “Need to move around before I get all stiffened up. Can I bring you anything?”

  “Ice cream?” Addy grinned at her.

  “Sorry, kiddo.” Amalia patted Addy on the head.

  A familiar woman stopped her. “You know, Amalia, we should start a group like this at our building. Surely the downstairs rec room is big enough to open it to the public like this, but in the daytime. Too many don’t want to leave their apartments at night.”

  Amalia nodded. “Good idea. Why don’t you talk to the manager and board and clear it with them. Then we can spread the word.” She nodded again. “That’s a very good idea.” I should have thought of that, but coming from someone else will be a lot better. She was already known as a boat rocker for some strange reason.

  She loaded a plate with various cookies, poured herself a lemonade, and returned to her chair. She leaned closer to MJ and Roxie. “These people are having a marvelous time. Listen to the laughter and the conversations. And a woman from my building just suggested we start one there. This just might be contagious. I mean, after all, we have a morning group already.” She looked around. “Who is that over there with the camera?”

  Roxie laughed. “I’ll be… that’s Grover Thurmond from the paper. You know—Rover Grover, their roving photographer. I wonder who is writing the column. I’m not. I’ve mentioned the UFOs twice so far in my columns, so I’d better lay off it awhile. Let Grover spread the word this time. Look. He’s taking a photo of Rich Owens. What is Rich working on there, some sort of carving?”

  Amalia smiled and nodded. “In a big way, we seem to be building community. Just think, it used to be quilting bees, but now we have UFOs.”

  “There are already how many quilting groups in Fond du Lac?” Roxie asked.

  “At least two that I know of, The Quilting Guild and the one at the Lutheran Church, but all theirs go overseas for world relief.” MJ laid her work down and stretched her fingers, then rolled her shoulders. “Anne isn’t here tonight. I hope it wasn’t an emergency that kept her away.”

  Maureen, the owner of the Yarn Shop, stopped beside MJ. “Do you think we need to give a signal that it’s half an hour till closing?”

  “Is it that time already?”

  “’Fraid so. Usually I wouldn’t care but that eight thirty class in the morning kind of cramps my style. Don’t think I’ll do that again, not that early at least.”

  “Not that I want to be nosy but…” MJ began.

  Amalia accidentally snorted out loud.

  MJ nudged her with her foot and rolled her eyes. “But did the last meeting bring you more sales during the off weeks?”

  “Both sales and class signups. Enough to make this well worth my time. A couple of new people did not know my shop was even here. I know one was from out of town.”

  “Good.” MJ nodded. “I’m glad. Daryl said the same thing; he hoped this benefited you. The funny, or rather, surprising thing is that article you posted on the bulletin board about the men who knit got his attention.”

  “Really?” Maureen glowed. “I’m going to order the books written by two young Norwegian men who travel the world talking about and teaching the European way of knitting. They are so fast. Wouldn’t that be fun if on their next tour we got them to come here?”

  Amalia gasped. “Are you kidding?”

  “I was, but maybe I’m not. After all, it doesn’t cost anything to ask.”

  Amalia could see the wheels turning in her mind. “Go for it. I’d sure come to listen to them and I am sure that taking a class from them would be a wild experience. They do teach, right?”

  “They were at the Hostfest in Minot, North Dakota, last year. Some people from here who went raved about them. I just hadn’t thought about inviting them here.”

  “If they came in May, they could perhaps do the Settendemae festivals too.”

  “MJ, you are a gold mine of ideas tonight.”

  “She’s always really fine in the idea department.” Amalia glanced around at the others. “Actually…” She nodded. “You have so many creative people here that the walls are pulsing with the energy.”

  “You’re right. But how do we tap that?”

  MJ stood up. She started to talk, but when no one noticed, Addy did her whistle again. The hush fell immediately. “Sorry to say but we need to be putting things away for tonight. We’ll see you back here in two weeks. Happy UFO-ing. I hope we can include more pictures of finished projects for the columnist.”

  Amalia leaned over to whisper to Ginny, “You have done really well tonight. A major accomplishment.”


  “Th-thank you.” Ginny sniffed. “I feel wrung out.”

  “Not surprising but you are moving forward anyway. Many people wouldn’t.”

  Roxie nodded in agreement. “I remember telling my pastor I felt I should wear a sign on my back that said, KICK ME!”

  “Why ever?” MJ asked.

  “Because every time people were nice to me, it brought on the tears.”

  Ginny closed her eyes, silently nodding. “You’re right,” she whispered. “You are so very right.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Okay, my radar senses something is going on.” MJ and Roxie with their two furry family members were halfway through their morning walk at a pace that left them both with less breath to talk with.

  “Ouch! Doggone it, Looper, you were doing so well.” MJ rubbed her shoulder. Looper lay on his tummy on the sidewalk. He curled around and licked places polite dogs do not lick, then squirmed a bit, apparently making himself comfortable.

  Roxie shook her head. “I think we wore him out.”

  “Looper, you cannot play flat basset just because you’ve not had sniffy time.” The look he gave her was pure basset soulfulness. “No, I do not feel sorry for you.”

  “Aw, come on, MJ, how can you not.” Roxie motioned to Sir Charles, who sat panting. “And his legs are lots longer than Looper’s.”

  MJ leaned over to stroke her dog’s long ears and hopefully cajole him into moving.

  “At least he’s not in the middle of the street like last time.”

  “Right. Come on, Looper, puppy treats at Annie’s.” His ears perking up, he raised his head and lurched to his feet. Even his whimper sounded like a child crying. “Good boy, we’re almost there.”

  He and Sir Charles shared the dogs’ big bowl of water outside the café and lay down, panting, in the shade.

  “Blame Roxie, she set the pace. She’s trying to walk all our legs off.” MJ turned to her friend. “What’s with you today anyhow?”

  “Think I’ll have my latte iced this morning.” Roxie pushed open the door and set off the tinkling bell above it. “Ah, cool air.”

  “Missed you last night,” Roxie greeted Anne.

  “I know. We had a catering gig, and for some crazy reason, business has to come first.”