Till Death Do Us Purl

by Anne Canadeo

  Maggie rang the doorbell and Nora’s brother, Gary, answered. He seemed to recognize them. “Hello, ladies. Come right in. Nice of you to stop by.”

  “We won’t stay long. We just wanted to see how Nora and Rebecca are holding up, and drop off some food.”

  “Rebecca is upstairs, resting. Nora’s in the living room. Her next-door neighbors just left. Go right in,” he told them.

  Gary took their offerings to the kitchen while Lucy and Maggie made their way to the living room.

  Nora sat in an armchair but stood up when the two women entered. “Maggie, Lucy . . . thank you for coming.”

  “No need to thank us,” Maggie insisted. “I’m so very sorry.” She gave Nora a hug and Lucy did the same.

  “I don’t know what to say. It’s just so unbelievable.”

  Nora nodded sadly. “We still can’t believe it. It’s like a nightmare. You want to wake up and have everything be just the way it was. But you can’t.”

  “Have they figured out how it happened?” Maggie sat down in an armchair and Lucy sat next to her.

  “Not yet. It sounds to me like the fire department is in charge of sorting it out. They’ve called in special arson investigators. Jeremy worked with a lot of flammable chemicals. Even if he wasn’t mixing them, there were many in his work space. A fire may have started and reached some explosive substance before he could put it out.”

  “What about sprinklers . . . that sort of thing?” Lucy asked. “Don’t labs have all sorts of safety devices?”

  Lucy remembered the lab in her high school and how their science teachers always demonstrated the special emergency shower to be used if anyone’s clothing caught fire or if anyone suffered a chemical burn. There was always some kid who acted out every year by pulling the cord and flooding the room.

  “Oh, there were plenty. But the sprinklers couldn’t prevent the explosion. Once that occurred . . . it was . . . over.” She swallowed hard and looked away. “The police officer I spoke to said poor Jeremy was . . . was blown to bits. There was no hope, even if someone had heard the alarm quickly.” She took a deep, shaky breath and looked up at them again. “I know Jeremy was dedicated to his work and under a lot of pressure right now with his special project. But for goodness’ sake, they’d just been married and about to leave for their honeymoon. Why did he have to go to that lab and work Monday night? If only he’d stayed with Rebecca.”

  If only . . . famous last words, Lucy thought. She sighed aloud. But there was nothing she could think of to say that would offer comfort.

  “What is this project about, Nora? Do you know?” Maggie asked curiously.

  Nora took a tissue from a box on the table and wiped her eyes again. “From what I can gather . . . it’s just . . . glue. Some special miracle formula that’s going to change the world. The world of glue, that is.”

  Maggie glanced at Lucy. No one could blame Nora for her sarcastic tone. It was obvious that she didn’t think much of her son-in-law sacrificing himself to this questionable cause.

  And her daughter suffering such a heartbreaking loss. One that would stay with her the rest of her life.

  “A special type of glue?” Maggie also did not sound especially impressed.

  “That’s right.” Nora glanced at the entrance to the living room, where they could see the foyer and staircase that led to the second floor.

  “Rebecca doesn’t like me to talk about it. That’s why she’s hardly told me anything about his work. Not that she knows that much. He had told her that it’s some sort of amazing adhesive that could even be used by construction companies and to build cars, and for a lot of other industries. Supposedly, it will save companies millions of dollars in production costs.”

  Such a product would be extremely valuable and worth millions of dollars, Lucy thought.

  “So it was important work, in that way,” Maggie replied.

  “Important to his father.” Nora’s mild tone took on a harsh note. So did her expression, Lucy noticed. “Philip Lassiter thinks he runs the world. He was nearly impossible about the wedding, and now he’s totally impossible about the funeral arrangements. You would think he’d have some respect for my daughter’s wishes.”

  “He doesn’t?” Maggie asked.

  “Oh, he starts off saying the right things. But if he doesn’t get his way, he turns into an arrogant tyrant.” Nora was incredulous. “Jeremy’s mother, Patricia, has her own ideas about a memorial for her son. But she’s much more considerate and concerned about Rebecca. I think Rebecca will just give in to both of them. She’s so . . . bereft right now. She just wants to carry out Jeremy’s wishes. He had some very specific ones,” Nora added.

  “He did? That’s unusual for a young person,” Maggie mused.

  “Yes, it is,” Nora agreed. “But he was very detail minded. He wanted to be cremated, for one thing. He also added her name to all his bank accounts and investments before they were married, so that if anything happened to him, Rebecca would be taken care of. Maybe he was worried that his family wouldn’t treat her fairly,” Nora said in a hushed tone, glancing at the staircase again. “Cold comfort for my little girl, after all she’s going through. Losing the love of her life.”

  Her voice faltered and she started crying again.

  “Nora . . .” Maggie reached out and patted her friend’s hand. Nora tried to compose herself, her head bowed for a moment.

  “Is there anything we can do for you?” Lucy asked. “Or for Rebecca? Can we help you in any way?”

  Nora finally looked up and shook her head. “Thank you but . . . I can’t think of anything right now. I do appreciate you coming here tonight. Listening to me rattle on.” She sighed. “It’s been so hard since we heard the news. Thank goodness my brother was able to stay and help.”

  Gary seemed like a nice man, Lucy thought. Quiet and responsible. The type who would do what was needed in these situations.

  As if on cue, he came in and glanced around the room. “Everyone okay in here? Would you like some coffee or tea? Some of that nice cake Maggie just brought? I’m sorry . . . I meant to ask you both before when you came in. I’ve just been cleaning up in the kitchen.”

  “I’m fine, thank you. In fact, I think we’d better go. We don’t want to tire you out, Nora.” Maggie glanced at Lucy.

  Lucy stood up, relieved to end the visit. “I’m sorry we didn’t get to see Rebecca. Please let her know we’re thinking of her.”

  “I will,” Nora promised. “We’ll let you know about the memorial as soon as the plans are settled.”

  Lucy had just finished pulling on her peacoat when the doorbell rang. “It’s all right, Gary. I’ll get it,” Nora said to her brother.

  Nora stepped forward and opened the door, then greeted the couple that stood in the front porch light. “Oh . . . Stewart. Pam . . .” Nora leaned forward and embraced them as they came in. “How good to see you. Come right in.” She ushered the pair inside and the foyer suddenly felt a little crowded.

  “Let me introduce my friends, Maggie Messina and Lucy Binger,” Nora said. “This is Dr. Stewart Campbell, the principal at Rebecca’s school.”

  The school principal seemed uncomfortable to be introduced that way and smiled nervously.

  “Nora, you make me sound like a real boss or something. I’m an old friend of Rebecca’s,” he said, shaking hands. “This is my wife, Pam,” he added, turning to his wife.

  She smiled and nodded. “How are you guys doing? Hanging in there?”

  “Just barely,” Nora admitted. “Rebecca’s upstairs sleeping. The doctor gave her something to calm her nerves.”

  “Yes, of course. That’s probably the best thing now,” Stewart said, sounding concerned.

  “Poor thing. It’s so unbelievable.” A petite brunette with a shaggy haircut, Pam wore a dressy black coat with a fluffy fake fur collar. She glanced at her husband and squeezed his arm. Stewart responded with a sad expression looking lost for a moment in his thoughts.

&n
bsp; He was not a very tall man, Lucy noticed, and the two seemed well matched physically. Lucy wondered if Pam was also a teacher. But she got the feeling that was not the case.

  “Please don’t disturb Rebecca,” he said to Nora. “We just wanted to drop off these flowers. Tell her that we’re thinking of her. She’s in our thoughts and our prayers. Me and Pam. And everyone at school. I don’t want her to worry about a thing.”

  Stewart handed Nora a huge bouquet of pure white lilies, tied with a white satin ribbon. Very expensive . . . and dramatic, Lucy thought. Very thoughtful.

  Maggie made her way toward the door, smiling politely. Lucy followed. “Nice to meet you,” she said. “Good night now.”

  A few minutes later, Lucy and Maggie were seated side by side in Lucy’s car, headed toward Maggie’s house.

  “I’m sorry we didn’t get to see Rebecca . . . but in a way, it was a relief,” Lucy admitted. “It will be so hard to face her. I’m afraid I’m going to just break down.”

  “I know what you mean.” Maggie stared out the passenger-side window. “It won’t be easy, no matter when we see her. Maybe it was just as well that Rebecca didn’t come down. It seemed like Nora really needed to talk to someone about Rebecca’s in-laws. She couldn’t have vented like that in front of Rebecca, that’s for sure.”

  “She has no great love for Philip Lassiter, does she? She makes him sound like he was cracking the whip over Jeremy. Nora didn’t come right out and say it but, do you think Jeremy’s father pressured him to finish up some work the night before his honeymoon?”

  Maggie glanced at her. There was little light in the car, but Lucy could still see a certain glint in her friend’s gray eyes. “I thought of that, too. That would be a heavy burden to bear. To think you may have played some part in your son’s death. Even indirectly.”

  “That would be hard,” Lucy agreed. Enough to haunt a person for the rest of his life. Enough to break some people altogether, she imagined.

  Maggie had been watching out the passenger-side window, even though the road was dark and there was nothing much to see. She turned and looked at Lucy.

  “This accident is more complicated than it sounded this morning, when we first heard the news. Don’t you think?”

  “I do.” Lucy nodded, her gaze fixed on the empty road ahead.

  It was more complicated. She had a feeling that there was more to come in this story. Much more.

  Lucy was about to quit work early the next day, so she could do a bit of extra primping before she left for Matt’s house, when she noticed an e-mail from Maggie. The subject line read: Jeremy’s Memorial. She opened it quickly.

  Dear Friends: I just heard from Nora’s brother about the plans for Jeremy’s memorial service. It will be held at Philip Lassiter’s estate, on Thursday, eleven to one o’clock. I know this might be inconvenient for Suzanne and Dana, but Phoebe says she’ll watch the shop so that I can go. If anyone else plans on going, just let me know. Perhaps we can drive over together. (This note sounds just like the one I sent around before the wedding!) Oh, that makes me so sad.

  Hope we’ll still have our meeting Thursday night. Dana, it’s your turn, right?

  XO, Maggie

  Lucy sent a quick note back to her friends, saying she wanted to go to the service and would check back tomorrow about who else was going.

  Then she shut her computer and breathed a sigh of relief. For a minute there, she thought her turn to host the knitting meeting had come around. Not that she didn’t like entertaining her group. But it did involve major house cleaning, shopping, and cooking dinner. A nice dinner. Which just didn’t fit into her schedule this week.

  As she dressed and blew out her hair, she wondered what Matt was making tonight. More important, what he wanted to talk about. Nothing too serious, she hoped. It felt like the end of a long difficult week. And it was only Wednesday.

  She arrived at Matt’s house right on time, for once. With a few overnight items packed in a knapsack for herself, and a few things for her dog. While Tink ran off to play with Walley, Lucy followed Matt into the kitchen.

  She’d expected one of his usual manly “meat and potatoes” menus. But he surprised her with grilled salmon, one of her favorite dishes. Now she was really worried. When he cooked salmon, something was up. The side dishes looked equally tasty: string beans, roasted red potatoes with fresh herbs, and a salad of mixed baby greens and blue cheese and vinaigrette dressing.

  The table had been set with brown woven place mats and candles. Lucy helped him bring the dishes to the table and they settled down to eat.

  “This all looks delicious,” she said.

  “Help yourself. I’m starved. I didn’t even have a chance to stop for lunch today.”

  “Me, either.” Lucy had been busy, and when she realized it was already three, she decided to skip lunch altogether and save her calories for dinner. She knew the way Matt cooked, without worrying about using butter or sugar, or any of the really good stuff.

  They talked for a while about the usual things, trading stories about their day. Lucy told Matt about the new project she’d just started. Then the conversation came around to Jeremy again. When she described her visit to the Baileys’, he didn’t say much, but he didn’t have to. She knew he sympathized with her.

  Lucy looked over at him, ready to change the subject to something more cheerful . . . she hoped. “So . . . what’s on your mind? You said you wanted to talk to me about something?”

  He smiled, easily seeing through her Ms. Mellow act. “Yeah, I do. It’s sort of important. It looks like I need to move out of this house by the end of the month.”

  Lucy was caught off guard by the news. Of all the serious talk topics that had bounced around her brain, this one had not been on the list

  “Really? Why is that?” He had just moved in when they’d met, so he’d only been here a year.

  “My landlord told me he needs this house for his mother. She lives in Vermont and he wants to move her down to town. She’s getting too old to live alone, but she won’t move in with them. He lives around the corner, so this house is the next best thing.”

  “Oh . . . that’s good of him. But bad for you,” she added quickly. “When do you have to be out?”

  “April 15,” he said with a silly smile.

  “That’s just a little over two weeks. Didn’t you get a month’s notice in your lease?”

  “Oh . . . he gave me about a month’s notice. I guess I’ve been avoiding dealing with it.”

  Lucy was finished and put her fork aside. “I guess so. You didn’t say a word. Any reason?”

  He shrugged. Then sat back and took a long sip of wine. “So . . . what do you think?”

  She squinted at him, not exactly smiling. She knew what he was asking, but wasn’t he the one who had made the big dinner and asked her over to have a talk?

  “About finding a new place to live? There aren’t too many good rentals around here. Not as nice as this one.”

  “Nope, not at all . . . But I meant, maybe we should move in together. You must have thought about it . . . a little?”

  “Not really . . . well, maybe a little,” Lucy admitted. “Dana said she thinks we’re already living together. Practically. We’re just in denial about it. Something like that.”

  “So you have been thinking about it. You even talked to your friends.”

  “They brought it up. One night while we were knitting. They were practically interrogating me.”

  “Really? And what did you say?” he asked curiously.

  She shrugged. “I don’t know . . . I said we were perfectly happy and getting along great. And a year of going out isn’t that long. But we’re both divorced and it’s a big step, especially for Dara and all that . . . don’t you think?”

  He shrugged. “It is a big step. But you know me. I think about things way too much. Maybe we should just go for it. Dana’s right. What would be the big difference? Except sharing some bills and the shelves in t
he medicine chest?”

  Lucy thought Matt could have the medicine chest in the half bath downstairs and she could get the big medicine chest in the upstairs bathroom. But she wasn’t ready to negotiate the fine print.

  “Sounds pretty simple when you put it that way,” she said.

  “Isn’t it? We’re used to each other’s habits, we know each other’s tastes. I know what TV shows you like, how strong you like your coffee. Those silly pink foam earplugs you wear when you sleep. What else is there?”

  Plenty, Lucy thought. She took a sip of her wine and eyed him over the glass. He sat perfectly still watching her, waiting for her answer.

  “We are together almost every night. And when we’re not, I miss you,” he said finally.

  “I miss you, too.” She really did. Maybe that was enough of a reason, right there. . . .

  “Can I think about this a little? It’s come at me sort of suddenly,” she said finally.

  “Of course. I didn’t mean we had decide right this minute.”

  He sounded sincere, though he would have probably liked it better if she’d just jumped into his arms and said, “Whoopee! Let’s start packing your stuff right now.”

  “I know this is a big step, Lucy. I didn’t mean to sound flip. Or make you feel pressured. I know how you feel about . . . your space.”

  He looked so serious and concerned. His eyes looked so blue.

  She walked over to his side of the table and put her arm around his shoulder. “Thanks. You’re being very understanding.”

  Lucy leaned over and put her cheek next to his. They stood like that for a moment or two. Then she stood up, her hands resting on his shoulders.

  “Okay, I’ve thought about it. When do you want to move in?”

  He laughed. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to agree if you aren’t a hundred percent positive. I can find another apartment, and my landlord will give me more time. I won’t be upset. Honest. Why don’t you take a day or two?”