Till Death Do Us Purl

by Anne Canadeo

  “No need to thank me, dear,” Maggie demurred. “It was an honor to play a small part in this fabulous wedding. Right ladies?” she asked her friends.

  The Black Sheep Knitters had to agree.

  While the rest of the wedding guests moved into another large room for the start of the reception, the knitters lingered in the foyer. They finally decided to skip the cocktail hour and head back to the village. Each had her own plans for the evening and it was getting late.

  There had been only a little time to dish about the wedding on the way back to town and Lucy was pleased to find an e-mail from Suzanne on Monday night with a photo of the bride and groom attached.

  Got some great wedding shots! Printing them out right now. I’ll drop them off at the shop on my way to the office tomorrow. Come by for coffee before you all start work? I’ll be there.

  XO, Suzanne

  Lucy had worked hard all day and into the night, starting a new project. She woke up early Tuesday morning, ready for some exercise before sitting at the computer again. Tink was more than ready for a walk to town.

  The weather had warmed a few degrees, though she still needed a down vest and heavy sweater. But the wind was gone and the sunlight streaming through the winter branches seemed stronger. Small green buds on the trees and bushes looked about to unfold.

  When Lucy arrived at the shop, the rest of her friends were already there, coffee cups in hand. They sat in the small alcove near the front door, where Maggie had set aside a cozy work space for her customers and smaller classes.

  “Sorry I’m late. Are those the photos?” Lucy noticed a pile of pictures on the marble-topped coffee table. She sat in an armchair and pulled open her vest.

  Suzanne nodded, but Lucy suddenly noticed her friend was weeping again. This time, they were not tears of joy. Curled up in the rocking chair, Phoebe stared into space, her eye makeup smeared. She’d been crying, too, Lucy realized. Dana and Maggie, who sat together on the love seat, weren’t crying, but wore blank, shocked expressions.

  “Hey . . . what’s up? What’s going on?”

  Maggie met her gaze. She silently shook her head and looked over at Dana. Dana cleared her throat and finally answered.

  “We just heard some bad news, Lucy. There was an awful accident at At-Las. Very late last night. It started in Jeremy’s lab . . .” Dana’s low voice grew suddenly shaky and thin. “They don’t know yet what caused it, but there was an explosion and fire. Jeremy was there and . . . he’s dead.”

  Chapter Four

  Lucy gasped. She felt as if someone had just punched her in the stomach. “Jeremy? Are you sure? That can’t be true . . .”

  “It’s true, Lucy. I’m sorry,” Dana said quietly. “Suzanne heard about it from Edie at the Schooner and I saw it on the local news this morning.”

  “But I thought they were going on a honeymoon. To Thailand,” she suddenly recalled. “Why was he even in his laboratory last night?”

  “They were scheduled to leave for their trip tonight. Jeremy had some work to clear up before he left town.” Maggie reached over and squeezed her hand. “It’s a horrible tragedy. Poor Rebecca. What a shock for the family . . .”

  Her voice trailed off as if she couldn’t say another word. The news was inexpressibly sorrowful.

  Lucy took a deep breath. She felt as if she might cry, but somehow the tears wouldn’t come. “So, have you been in touch with Nora?”

  “I called the house and spoke to Nora’s brother, Gary. Remember him? He walked Rebecca down the aisle.” As Lucy nodded Maggie continued. “He’s going to let us know when the family has made funeral arrangements. It sounds like there’s some tension between Rebecca and the Lassiters.”

  “Tension? What can they be arguing about at a time like this?”

  “About who’s in charge of planning Jeremy’s memorial, that sort of thing. Philip Lassiter and Jeremy’s mother both want to plan it and are forgetting all about Rebecca,” Maggie explained. “You’d think they’d all take some pity and abide by her wishes. She was his wife, however briefly.”

  “I hate to judge people by appearances, but Philip Lassiter looks like the type who thinks he’s entitled to running every show. Jeremy’s mother doesn’t look like any pushover, either,” Suzanne said.

  “The news report said the cause of the fire and explosion were being investigated,” Dana said. “That will slow things down, as well.”

  “Do the police have some reason to think it wasn’t an accident?” Suzanne sounded surprised.

  “Gary told me that they assume it was,” Maggie replied. “Jeremy’s work involved dangerous chemicals. But Dana’s right, the fire department and police need to determine exactly how it happened. The insurance companies will want to know, too,” she added.

  “Absolutely. They’ll want to know most of all,” Dana agreed. “Jeremy probably had life insurance and the company must be insured for the damage to the building. But I’m sure they’ll be able to hold a funeral before all that’s figured out.”

  Lucy nodded, feeling numb. Almost light-headed. She was totally shocked by the news. Funeral arrangements? They’d just gone to the young man’s wedding, what . . . two days ago? He had been beaming with joy.

  “I’m sorry . . . I can’t believe it.” She shook her head and closed her eyes. “He was so young and they looked so happy on Saturday. Poor Rebecca. They were married only . . . two days?”

  “It is unbelievable,” Maggie agreed. “What are the chances of something like that happening? Probably ten million to one.”

  “Just goes to show you, you never know what’s going to happen in life. Day to day. Hour to hour,” Suzanne offered between wiping her tears.

  “But we rarely seem to remember, and live as if we have all the time in the world.” Maggie sighed. “I just keep thinking of poor Rebecca. How radiant and joyful she looked on Saturday. She told me that it was the happiest day of her life. At least they had that much together.”

  “Rebecca is heartbroken. No question,” Dana said. “But she’s young. She’ll get through this, eventually. In a way, I feel even worse for his parents. One never expects to outlive a child.”

  How true. It was impossible to say which perspective was more pitiable—Jeremy’s newlywed bride, or his parents, Philip Lassiter and Patricia Moore.

  “He was brilliant, wasn’t he? A real genius,” Suzanne said quietly.

  “No question,” Maggie agreed. “His death will be a blow to At-Las Technologies. He was their senior scientist and, Nora said, the real brains and talent of the operation.”

  Suzanne leaned over and scooped up the photos. “I’m going to put these away. For a long time, actually,” she added.

  A customer came in and Maggie sat up alertly and whisked a tissue under her eyes. “I look a wreck, don’t I? I hope I don’t scare the poor woman away.”

  “You look fine, Maggie.” Dana soothed her.

  The customer had made a beeline for a display of needles and other tools that stood just past the checkout counter.

  “May I help you with something?” Maggie called out. The woman turned and nodded.

  “I’ll go.” Phoebe got up and trotted over.

  Maggie sat back and watched Phoebe for a moment. “It’s not that I don’t trust her, but I’d better get back to work.”

  “We understand.” Dana stood up and slipped on her jacket. “I have to run, too. I have a patient in a little while.”

  Suzanne and Lucy said their good-byes as well, though Lucy knew it would be very difficult to focus on work this morning in her quiet cottage. That was the downside of working on your own. You were basically alone with your own thoughts and moods, for better or worse.

  “I’ll let you know when I hear more about the memorial plans,” Maggie said as she left them.

  “Yes, let us know.” Dana’s tone was somber. “I never imagined we’d be donning our black dresses again so soon. And for such a sad occasion.”

  No one replied. No one
had to. Lucy knew Dana had just expressed what they were all thinking and feeling.

  Lucy left the shop with Dana and Suzanne. Instead of turning up Main Street toward home, she and Tink walked with Dana to her office, which was in the center of town, not far from the harbor.

  The two friends walked in silence for a while. Main Street was bustling with activity: young mothers pushing strollers, men and women in business dress hustling to their offices. Seniors were out for their daily exercise and window-shopping.

  The sun shone brilliantly and Lucy could hear chirping in the bare branches all around. She sensed spring stirring, the earth waking up after a long winter sleep. It all seemed wrong today, out of synch.

  She turned to Dana and shook her head. “How can everything look so busy and . . . happy today? How can life just go on, after what happened to Jeremy and Rebecca?”

  Dana’s expression was sympathetic. She reached out and touched Lucy’s arm. “I know just what you mean. I feel the same. In a way, it’s a comfort. Life does go on, Lucy. No matter what. Something larger lifts us up and carries us along, if we let it.

  Lucy sighed. She understood what Dana meant. She hadn’t gotten there yet. She needed more time to process this sad news.

  They reached Dana’s building but she seemed in no hurry to rush upstairs. They stood together on the sidewalk and Tink leaned against Lucy’s leg.

  “Do you remember when Jeremy saw Rebecca in her gown last Tuesday night? He laughed when Nora said it was bad luck. But Nora and Rebecca were very upset.”

  “I do remember.” Dana took a key chain from her purse. “It’s an eerie coincidence. But I don’t believe in that stuff . . . do you?”

  “No . . . I don’t, either.” Lucy agreed. Though she did have a few quirks in that department. No one was going to catch her walking under a ladder anytime soon. Or crossing paths with felines of a certain hue.

  Dana leaned over and gave her an impulsive hug. “See you soon . . . and call if you want to talk some more, okay?”

  Lucy nodded. The news was so sad and shocking, Lucy had a feeling her entire circle of friends would get some free therapy from Dana this week, especially when they met for their knitting meeting.

  Lucy started back up Main Street, intending to go home. But she found herself stopping at Matt’s office, Harbor Animal Hospital, which was not far from the village green.

  She rarely dropped in unexpectedly. She didn’t like to bother him at work. The office was usually wildly busy with patients of all species, and their owners, trying to get along peacefully in the waiting room. Or Matt was in surgery and completely unavailable.

  But today she had a yearning to see him. Just for a minute. To look into his eyes and connect with his warm, reassuring smile. Just long enough to recharge her battery.

  Surprisingly, when she walked in, the waiting room was relatively quiet. A gray-haired woman waited, a cat carrier balanced on her lap. Tink immediately investigated, sniffing close enough to inspire a low growl from deep within the plastic box.

  Lucy walked up to the receptionist’s window and Tink jumped up, her paws on the edge of the counter.

  After exchanging greetings Phyllis, the secretary, buzzed Matt and gave Tink a biscuit. “He said it’s fine. Just go on back.”

  Matt’s office was the last room on the corridor. Lucy opened the wooden door and walked in. Tink immediately jumped up on the small leather couch, opposite Matt’s desk. She curled up in a ball with her head on her paws.

  “Hey. What’s up?” Matt looked up and smiled that amazing smile of his, the one that flipped all her switches. She tried to smile back, but this time, couldn’t manage it. It felt as if the corners of her mouth had somehow been stapled down.

  “I hope I’m not bothering you . . .”

  “Not at all. I’m pretty bored. It’s just about time for my beautiful-woman break.” He smiled and walked toward her, then rested his hands on her shoulders. “Is everything okay?”

  Lucy shook her head, losing her voice for a moment. “I have some bad news. Jeremy Lassiter died last night. There was an explosion and fire in his lab.”

  “That guy who just got married on Saturday to your friend?” Lucy nodded bleakly. “That’s awful. His poor wife. How did you hear about it?”

  “I went to Maggie’s shop this morning, to see some pictures from the wedding. Ironic, right? Dana had heard a news report on TV.”

  He gazed down at her with a sad, sympathetic expression. Then pulled her close in a warm, strong hug. “I’m so sorry, honey. You must feel awful.”

  “I do.” She didn’t want to start crying, but thought she might. “They were such a sweet couple. So totally crazy about each other. When I saw them together last week they seemed so happy and connected. So . . . in sync. Know what I mean?”

  He stroked her hair and kissed her forehead. “Like me and you, right?”

  She couldn’t tell if he was teasing her or not. If he was, it was in a good way, she decided.

  “Exactly,” she agreed. “An eccentric, reclusive, totally neurotic graphic artist obsessed with knitting and dogs. And an equally weird vet.”

  Matt laughed. “Don’t forget nerdy. Me, I mean,” he said.

  “Didn’t I say nerdy? I meant to.”

  He hugged her again and didn’t say a thing for a while.

  “I’m sorry we can’t get together tonight,” he said, and Lucy remembered Matt had to drive to Boston for some veterinarian association meeting. “Can this nerdy, neurotic guy make you dinner tomorrow?”

  “Hey, who could resist an invitation like that?”

  “Great.” He pulled back a bit and looked down at her. “There’s something I want to talk to you about.” Lucy’s expression must have immediately revealed her alarm. “Nothing bad,” he promised.

  “Okay, if you say so.”

  Lucy didn’t exactly hate surprises. But she sure hated it when people—like boyfriends, for instance—said they needed to have a talk. Then made you wait to find out what it was about.

  But before she could ask any questions, both the phone and the intercom buzzed at once. “Sounds like my break is over.”

  “That’s okay. I have a few other bored men on my list to visit today.” She tried for a breezy tone and his alarmed expression was pleasing. Though they both knew she was only joking.

  After an encouraging yank on Tink’s leash, the big dog finally hopped off the couch.

  Matt picked up the phone, then covered it with his hand. “I’ll call you tonight. But I’m glad you came here today to talk to me.”

  “I’m glad, too,” Lucy admitted.

  She hadn’t wanted to seem needy—the absolute kiss of death to relationships. She could see now there was no reason to worry. She and Matt really did seem to be in sync in all the ways that counted. That was saying a lot.

  When Lucy got home she sat staring at her computer and forced herself to do deal with some mindless but necessary tasks. It was very hard to concentrate. Her thoughts kept drifting back to Jeremy and Rebecca. Lucy couldn’t begin to imagine what the poor girl was feeling right now.

  At the end of the day, she found an e-mail from Maggie, addressed to their whole group.

  Just wanted to check in with everyone. It was hard to keep the shop open today but I managed. A little knitting helped. I’m sure you all feel the same. I’ve decided to visit the Baileys tonight. Rebecca is staying with her mother, and Nora’s brother said he thought a few neighbors would stop by. Anyone interested in joining me? Let me know. Maybe we could ride together.

  —XO, Maggie

  Lucy wrote back right away.

  I’ll come with you. Call me and we’ll figure out a good time.

  XO, L.

  Why not visit Rebecca and her family? She didn’t have any plans and knew she’d just sit around tonight, feeling bleak about the whole thing. It would even be hard to knit. The shrug that she’d started for herself would remind her too much of the wedding.

  No, it
was far better to get out and do something—bring Rebecca and Nora flowers or some food. People could always use something good to eat at a time like this, couldn’t they?

  Down in the kitchen Lucy checked the refrigerator and cupboards to see what she had on hand. Not too much. There was a chicken. Very promising. Never underestimate poultry, that was her cooking motto. One of them, anyway.

  She grabbed an apron and got busy.

  A few hours later, Lucy and Maggie arrived at the Bailey home, a wooden frame saltbox. The style was indigenous to New England and perennially popular. The neat, conservative-looking home, dark blue with white trim, was just the sort of place Lucy imagined Nora living. Though Rebecca had grown up here, she and Jeremy had their own apartment in the village, Maggie had mentioned. But Rebecca was staying with her mother now, at least until the funeral. Lucy had driven, picking Maggie up on her way.

  “No other cars here yet,” Maggie noted as Lucy parked her Jeep.

  Lucy had noticed that, too. It was good in a way and bad. Good because she didn’t know what to say to people she’d never met before, under these circumstances . . . after figuring out how they both knew the family and deceased. Bad because it would be hard to sit alone with Nora and Rebecca. Hard to know what to say to them about the tragedy, beyond the obvious.

  Lucy took a breath as she retrieved the casserole dish from the backseat. These situations were never easy. This one in particular was uncommonly sorrowful.

  Maggie had also whipped up something for the Baileys—a large date nut loaf that she’d wrapped in a basket.

  “That smells good. What did you make?” Maggie asked, glancing at Lucy’s dish.

  “It turned out to be roast chicken with mushrooms, artichokes, and a few sun-dried tomatoes. Pretty much what I was able to scavenge in my kitchen.”

  “It sounds very tasty. I’m sure they’ll appreciate it.”

  Lucy smiled but didn’t answer. These acts of condolence cooking made the cooks feel a bit better. But she wasn’t so sure that those on the receiving end noticed one way or the other what they were eating at such intense times of grief. If they were even able to eat.