Fabric of Life

by Judith Post

  Rachel leaned forward, anxious. Just as quickly as the color came, though, the color left. Dull white threads formed a jagged, uneven pattern and then the bookmark suddenly ended.

  Upset, Rachel looked at Thea. “Bright white is good, right? But what does that shade mean--sort of good?”

  Thea shook her head. “That means drugs or disease.”

  “And then she’s done, her life’s over?”

  “I’ve seen this pattern before.” Thea glanced out the window again. A cloud moved over the sun, dimming its light. “Remember Tonya Stephenson?”

  Rachel nodded. “Shari’s niece? She was smart and pretty--a little younger than I am, but I liked seeing her each summer.”

  “When she hit high school, she made bad choices,” Thea said. “She finally spiraled out of control. She drank too much, ended up taking drugs, and finally overdosed.”

  “Was that preordained?” Rachel asked.

  “No, but the tendencies probably were--genes, disposition. All each soul chooses is its birth date and name.” Thea lifted the bookmark from the loom and let it drift to the rafter. “The rest is the swing of the needle.”

  “So our lives are just luck?” Rachel asked.

  “It’s a mix. Part of our destiny is in our own hands, even before we step on the scale.”

  Rachel sagged onto the nearby chair and took a deep breath. “How does it work?”

  “We choose the name we want in this life and the date of our birth. The date decides exactly where each planet is in the universe when we’re born, and that decides the ups and downs in our lives.”

  “Astrology,” Rachel said.

  “A lot of people scoff at it, but it just makes sense. The Creator uses the planets to teach us life lessons.”

  “And our name?”

  “Each letter is a symbol for something unique about us.” Thea thought for a minute. “For example, your name starts with an R. That symbolizes the universal brotherhood of man. You came here determined to be of service to others.”

  Rachel blinked. “That is how I feel, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, and you decided that before you ever stepped on the scale. So did Isak. I’s and R’s share the same goals. That’s probably what attracted you to him.”

  “What about A’s, for Annabel?”

  Thea smiled. “It suits her. A’s symbolize masculine energy--an independent, take-charge type of personality.”

  “That’s her, all right.” Rachel was silent a moment. “I get what you’re telling me, Mom, but it’s too complicated. And it’s too hard. I can’t be a weaver yet. I’m not ready. It’s too depressing, too awful, when people choose wrong.”

  “You’re only nineteen.”

  Rachel sighed. “Grandma was a weaver when she turned eighteen.”

  “That’s because Granny Doreen couldn’t wait to get rid of the job. She knew Mom was too young for it. That’s why Mom burned out so early. She had to start too soon.”

  “I know how Granny felt. I dread it. I hate the idea of weaving.”

  Thea chewed her bottom lip. She didn’t know what to say. “I’m not planning on retiring any time soon. I love weaving. It’s the right match for me. You’re young and busy getting married and starting life. You’re still full of hope and ideals.”

  “What are you saying, that those go away with age?”

  “They’re still there, but you realize that life is a lot harder than you thought it was going to be. Your perspective changes.”

  “I don’t want to change,” Rachel said. “I don’t want to get older and more cynical.”

  “Then I hope it doesn’t happen to you. Annabel’s missed it somehow.”

  Rachel looked away, gazing up to the bookmarks dangling from the rafters. “Josh called me today.”

  “He did?”

  “He’s lonely, Mom. He wants to come home.”

  “It’s too soon.”

  “You waited too long. His knots should be in his past by now. I don’t think this is going to work.”

  “It has to.” Thea didn’t know what else to try.

  “He went to Arizona where Dad lived. He set up shop there, and a gallery’s already selling the small things he carves. It’s not like he can’t make it. He can. But he’s not happy.”

  “He’s not supposed to be.”

  Rachel pushed herself out of the chair. “He doesn’t like Arizona. He misses the green of the Midwest. He wants to come home.”

  “Not yet.”

  “I miss him,” Rachel said.

  “So do I.”

  Rachel started for the stairs. “He’s going to call you later tonight. Try not to be mean to him.”

  Thea listened to her footsteps as she flew down the stairs and out the door. Mean to him? Was that how Rachel saw things? And what about weaving? Would Rachel be another Granny Doreen, who only did weaving because she had to?

  Chapter 45

  All right, she was weak. She was tacky. She didn’t care. She went to the refrigerator and poured herself a glass of wine and opened a box of chocolates. She chose one with a caramel filling. Decadence--her idea of comfort food. Then she went out on the deck to enjoy her goodies.

  The June air was warm, but not hot. She kicked off her sandals and wiggled her toes. From her vantage point on the hill, she could look down on Ruby Riverwalk. Tourists clogged the sidewalks. A good thing. Emerald Hills’ survival depended on them. She was thankful that she merely had to provide weavings and quilts for other peoples’ shops and not work behind a counter every summer day. Up here on her hilltop perch, she was away from the hustle and bustle, tucked away in her weaver’s paradise.

  She sipped her wine and fretted. Would Rachel be all right with weaving? Her daughter viewed her destiny more as a life sentence of misery than a career of fulfillment. And what about Josh? What would she say to him when he called tonight? Thoughts tumbled through her mind, jostled and messy, until Gabe materialized on the bottom step.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Not really. You were there in the studio. You heard Rachel. I’ve trained her to be a weaver, but I’m not sure she’s right for it.”

  “That was a sad weave.”

  “It was awful. I understand how Rachel feels.”

  He came to stand beside her. “It’s a little like being a doctor. You can’t save everyone. Rachel will learn that.”

  “Not everyone has the personality to be a doctor, or a weaver.” She pushed herself out of the chair and leaned against him, then she straightened, surprised. “I’m leaning against you, not into you.” She touched him. “You’re almost solid.”

  “I knew something felt different. Come here.” He pulled her against his shoulder.

  “What’s happening?” Thea asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Is it something new that you’ve learned?”

  “I don’t think so. I think it’s a fluke, but I sure enjoy really feeling you.” He bent his head and kissed her. “Mmm, your lips taste like wine.”

  Warmth spread through her body. Every nerve tingled. Lips to lips, she could feel his warmth. Her breath came in small bursts. “You’re not cold. Can a ghost be warm?”

  “I’m feeling pretty toasty.”

  She nestled against him, and his hand slid under her T-shirt.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Has it been that long?” he teased. His fingers brushed her stomach and breast, caressed her neck. She groaned. “Maybe this is a perk for having to weave a sad bookmark?” he asked.

  “Lord, I hope so.” She was grateful for every perk that came her way. Her skin burned. Her body ached. “There hasn’t been anyone but you, ever.”

  His fingers slid inside her bra. “Celibacy sucks,” he whispered. He reached for the screen door and pulled her into the house.

  They only made it to the sofa, and Gabe’s energy didn’t fade until he came.

  As he drained to a nice, translucent ghost again, Thea pulled on her bra and pantie
s and padded to the kitchen for a second glass of wine. “What a day!”

  Gabe grinned as he faded more. “I don’t wish you another bad weave, but I hope my energy spikes more often.”

  “Me, too. Companionship’s good, but getting the works is even better.” When he was gone, she went back to the deck and flopped onto her chair. Her nervous energy was spent, and she felt so good, she wondered if her bones had melted.

  Chapter 46

  She’d goofed off long enough. It was time to get back to work. Thea looked through the phone book and dialed the number of Les’s winery.

  “Hello, can I talk to Lindsay please?” she asked the young woman who answered the phone. Les employed several of his friend’s teenagers during college break to serve as receptionists and guides. She should look into that, too, if Lindsay wasn’t Lacey’s sister.

  “She’s on vacation right now,” the receptionist informed her. “Could I take a message?”

  “No, it’s personal. I found some information that I know would interest her.”

  “Would you like to leave your name?” the girl asked.

  “It wouldn’t mean anything to her, but a friend from town told me that I should call her. Do you know when she’ll be back?”

  “Early next week. Mr. Smith was going to leave next month, so Lindsay took her vacation so that she’d be here to cover things when he’s gone.”

  “Poor Les. Does Lindsay know?”

  “Yes, but she couldn’t get back in time for the funeral.”

  Thea held her breath before asking, “Could I talk to Lacey then?”

  There was a brief pause. “Lacey doesn’t work here anymore.”

  “Do you have a forwarding address so that I can reach her?”

  The girl’s voice became tense. “She left rather suddenly. We don’t know where to reach her.”

  Thea decided that she’d pushed her luck enough. “Thanks for your time. I’ll try Lindsay again when she gets back.”

  “Are you a friend of the family?” the girl asked.

  “I was a friend of Les’s, and I met Lacey a couple of times.”

  “You did?”

  “Nothing formal. We just bumped into each other.”

  The girl spoke before she thought. “Lacey hated it here. She hated Emerald Hills. She hardly ever left the winery, and when Les talked her into going to the club, she snubbed the rest of us. Can you imagine? Her, snubbing us?”

  “She seemed pretty high-strung when I met her. Maybe she was too upset to be friendly.”

  “Was she friendly to you?”

  “Not a bit.”

  The girl let out a breath. “You see? She wouldn’t let any of us be nice to her. She didn’t want anything to do with us. I tried to tell Lindsay that it wasn’t us, it was her sister.”

  Jackpot. Lacey was Lindsay’s sister. “It must have been hard for Lindsay.”

  “She’s worried sick. I mean, to just . . .” The girl caught herself. “If you’d like to try Lindsay early next week, you should be able to reach her.”

  “Thanks again,” Thea said. “I’ll tell Lindsay how helpful you were.”

  “You don’t need to do that,” the girl said.

  “Lindsay will be grateful that you helped us connect,” Thea assured her, “and I’ll be careful how I word it.”

  “Thanks.”

  That settled it, Thea thought as she replaced the receiver in its cradle. Lacey was Lindsay’s sister. They could start looking for answers there. And Lacey must have disappeared suddenly and without a trace. That meant that Lindsay might not have any more answers than she did, but if they put their heads together, they might come up with something.

  Chapter 47

  Rachel brought Hannah home when she and Isak closed the bakery for the evening.

  “We were going to invite her for supper,” Rachel said, “but she’d snacked on so many cookies, she wasn’t hungry. She might not be hungry for the rest of the night.”

  Thea raised an eyebrow and looked at Hannah.

  “Don’t give me the evil eye,” Hannah protested. “I couldn’t help it. I was helping behind the counter, and the cookies were right there, and there were all kinds. I had to try at least one of each.”

  Rachel laughed. “Like you stopped there!”

  “I might have tried more of some of my favorites.” Hannah’s face looked mutinous.

  Thea shook her head. “I’ve never met a peanut butter cookie that I could resist.”

  Hannah relaxed. “I’m not very hungry, though.”

  “Maybe we’ll open a can of soup for supper tonight,” Thea said. She was ready to spend some time with Hannah after Rachel left, but Hannah had had a big enough day.

  “Do you care if I go in the basement and watch TV?” “Take a break and relax,” Thea said. “It’s summer vacation.” With Hannah satisfied, Thea decided to go to the loft and work on the new quilt. She was restless, half dreading Josh’s phone call, and she needed something to occupy her mind. She’d finished a fabric butterfly when the phone rang.

  “I’ll get it!” she called, but as usual, Hannah beat her to it.

  “It’s Josh!”

  Thea listened to Hannah chat happily, news spilling out, for her cousin to listen to. Finally, she said, “He wants to talk to you.”

  Thea took the phone and motioned for Hannah to leave, but Hannah stood rooted to the spot. Thea sighed. What difference did it make? Hannah would know soon anyway.

  “Hi!” she said, trying to sound loving and neutral at the same time.

  “Mom?” Josh’s voice almost melted her resolve. “I talked to Rachel today. Did she tell you?”

  “She said that you’re in Arizona, but you don’t like it there.”

  “It’s too hot, and there aren’t any trees like at home. I hate it.”

  “She said that you’ve already sold some of your carvings.”

  He hesitated. “You don’t want me to come back, do you?”

  Her breath caught. “I called your dad’s parents. David and Muriel would love it if you went to California and spent some time with them. They said they haven’t gotten to play grandparents for a long time.”

  “I don’t want to. I miss home.”

  “Have you found what you lost?”

  “I don’t care about that.”

  “You will. If you come home now, you might be even more depressed. You might feel like there are no answers out there. I know you’re lonely, so why not stay with your grandparents for a while?”

  “How long?”

  “However long it takes.”

  “And if I don’t find anything? How long do I have to stay away?”

  “At least give it a few months,” Thea said.

  “A few months? But I miss you. I miss Emerald Hills. Don’t you miss me?”

  Tears ran down Thea’s cheeks and her throat ached. “All the time, but I want what’s best for you. You need to do this.”

  She braced herself for his next argument, but all she heard was his phone placed gently in its receiver. He’d hung up on her. Given up. That hurt more than if he’d argued.

  Thea turned and saw Hannah standing beside the kitchen table. Hannah’s face was mottled with temper, and her hands were balled into fists.

  “You’re a mean, awful person!” Hannah screamed. “How can you be so mean to Josh?”

  “Sometimes you have to be mean to be a good parent,” Thea said.

  “You call yourself a good parent? My mom’s a good parent. She never left me. She stayed when she could have gone to the light. But you don’t even want Josh to stick around. You kicked him out, and he wants to come back, and you won’t let him.”

  “It won’t help him if he comes home before he finds what he’s missing.”

  “Maybe he’s missing us. Maybe you’re always too busy to spend time with him or me. Maybe your looms are more important to you than we are.”

  “That’s not true, and you know it.”

  “Do I? Why didn�
��t you ever take a day off and do stuff with Josh? Why didn’t you make him feel better?”

  “Because he didn’t want me to. That’s what I did when he was little. He’s too old for that anymore. He didn’t want me around. He blamed me for his problems.”

  “Maybe because it was your fault.”

  “No, it wasn’t.”

  “You sent Gabe away, and that made Josh sad.”

  “Our divorce made Josh sad, but that’s not what’s wrong now. No one can make another person happy. I can’t click my fingers and fix what’s wrong with Josh. He has to find his own answers, and he won’t find them here.”

  Hannah dashed a hand across her eyes to wipe away tears, and Thea realized that she’d been yelling. “Why can’t you be fun, like Nancy?” Hannah asked.

  Thea sighed. “I guess it doesn’t come with my job.”

  “My mom had a serious job, healing people, and she was fun.”

  “All right,” Thea said. “You’re right. Some people are fun, and some people aren’t. I was never fun. There, I said it. Now are you happy?”

  Hannah cocked her head to one side and studied her. “You’re not ha-ha fun, but you’re nice to be around.”

  “Thanks, but you’re both. And I’m glad you’re here.”

  Hannah crossed the room and clamped her arms around her. “I miss Josh.”

  “So do I.”

  “Are you sure you’re right?”

  “No, damn it, I’m not. Kids don’t come with operating manuals, so you just do the best you can. This is the best I can come up with for Josh.”

  Hannah leaned back to gaze up at her. “Aren’t you just a little bit smarter because you do bookmarks and life maps?”

  “You’d think that would help, wouldn’t you? But sometimes, the more answers you find, the more questions you think of.”

  “What happened after Josh’s big knot?”

  “He came home, happy, with a wife.”

  “A wife?” Hannah pushed away. Her face glowed with excitement. “You mean, you sent Josh on a journey to find true love?”

  “In the bookmark, Josh’s thread and her thread were wound together so tightly, they were almost one.”