Yarn to Go

by Betty Hechtman

  “So, you’re not even staying for lunch?” I said, gesturing toward his car. I was about to make a comment about the menu when the rumpled figure of Lou Spaghazzi charged into the scene.

  “Sneaking out like the rat you are,” Edie’s husband said. He was standing only inches from Michael now.

  Michael seemed confused by the comment and put up his hands. “Sneaking out of here? I don’t think so.”

  “I’ve been looking all over for you. You know who I am, don’t you?” Lou said, trying unsuccessfully to get in the other man’s face.

  Michael let out a deep sigh. “She showed me a photograph once. I’m very sorry for your loss.”

  “Are you?” Lou Spaghazzi’s face was twisted in a mixture of anguish and anger. He waved a handful of photographs in Michael’s face. “I know all about you and Edie. You thought when you got rid of her phone, you got rid of the evidence. Ha! Lucky for me I told Edie I needed to check her phone battery before she left. I found these photographs and got them printed up. What do you have to say to that?”

  From my vantage I couldn’t see the details of the photos other than they seemed to be of two people at sunset near the lighthouse. Lou didn’t wait for an answer. “Are you going to deny that’s you? And that’s her?” He held the prints right in front of Michael’s face.

  “I followed her up here this time. I was going to confront her and say she had to choose between us.” Lou seemed to have no awareness that I was standing next to them.

  Michael’s posture slumped, and he let out a weary sigh. “She loved you. We were just friends who met up here. We had dinner and talked. Sometimes we watched the sunset,” he said, indicating the prints Lou kept waving around. “It was all very teenage romantic stuff. She’d slip away after the activities of her retreat were done and we’d go for a walk in the moonlight, or more often, the fog.”

  Lou looked like someone who had been running full steam ahead toward something and then suddenly screeched to a halt. “That’s all it was?” he said.

  Michael insisted it was, but I had to wonder if he was telling the truth. I remembered what Dr. Sammy had told me—Michael said he was going to break it off and that Edie had called him at his house.

  “You were up here all along.” I said to Lou Spaghazzi. It was as if they both noticed me for the first time. Lou’s expression clouded.

  “What’s it to you?” Lou said.

  “Lieutenant Borgnine said he reached you on your cell phone, didn’t he?” I said. “What did you tell him—that you were in L.A.?”

  “I never lied to the police,” he said defiantly.

  “But you didn’t tell him exactly where you were, either.”

  Lou glared at me. “That cop doesn’t need to know about any of this,” Lou said. “Except maybe about him.” He jerked his thumb toward Michael, poking him in the chest.

  Michael reacted by pushing Lou’s thumb away. I could feel the tension level between them growing and threatening to erupt. It made me uneasy.

  What was I supposed to do? Distract them, maybe?

  “I know Michael was going to tell Edie it was over between them,” I said, thinking it might smooth things over, but it had the opposite effect.

  “What?” Michael said. What little had been left of his formerly calm and easygoing manner went out the window. “How do you know that?” he demanded. Then he explained, “We had an agreement. Just the time we spent here with no interference in our regular lives. Edie broke the rules and called my house.” He made a grab for the photographs.

  “So, maybe you decided to make sure it was over,” Lou said, jerking his thumb again.

  The two men were glaring at each other, and I had no idea what was going to happen, but whatever it was didn’t seem good. Michael reached for the prints. This time he pulled them from Lou’s hands and began to tear them up.

  Lou tried to get them back, yelling that he was destroying evidence. Michael said something back. The words turned into flying punches. Neither one of them was much of a fighter, and most of the punches seemed to miss. Lou might have been a little shorter, but he was feistier and kept kicking out with his feet until he managed to trip Michael and both of them went down. The two of them kept pushing and shoving each other as they rolled around in all the pine needles.

  The closest I’d come to dealing with anything like this was when I was substitute teaching and two first graders had gotten into a fight in the school yard. They’d been easy to break up. I just grabbed the backs of their shirts and pulled them apart. Would it work now? I watched them scuffling on the ground, trying to make a grab. It had been much easier with the first graders, because they were smaller and standing up. A moment came when the backs of both of their shirts were exposed, and I made my move. With a lunge, I grabbed both their shirts and pulled. Instead of getting them to stop, there was just a loud ripping sound and I ended up with two handfuls of fabric before joining them on the ground.

  “Ms. Feldstein, what are you doing? Fighting with the guests now?” I recognized Kevin St. John’s voice and the whine of a golf cart as he squeaked to a stop next to us.

  “You better call Lieutenant Borgnine,” I said.

  27

  “COFFEE,” I SAID AND SANK INTO A CHAIR IN THE dining hall. Despite the fistfight in the parking lot, I had kept my word and found the group’s table before the end of breakfast, although just barely. Lucinda jumped up and grabbed the thermal pot off the lazy Susan and filled my cup.

  “What happened to you?” Kris said with concern. For the first time, I thought of my clothes and looked down. It was definitely the wrong day to have decided to wear a white shirt and khaki slacks. I quickly tucked in the shirttail that had come out and tried to brush the dirt off the front of my shirt. When I felt my hair, some pine needles fell on the table.

  Bree gasped as I began to tell them about my encounter with Lou Spaghazzi and Michael. Melissa and Sissy both kept asking who they were.

  “So, what happened?” Olivia said, very interested.

  “Did you know that Kevin St. John carries plastic ties you can use for handcuffs?” I said, mostly to Lucinda. “With my help he got them on both Lou and Michael as both men told Kevin that the other one had killed Edie. Then he shooed me away, saying he was in control, but I heard him on his cell calling Lieutenant Borgnine, claiming he’d caught Edie’s killers.”

  There was a buzz of conversation as they all started to talk at once, but then silence fell over the group as Lieutenant Borgnine came in the door and made a beeline for our table. He pointed at me and gestured for me to go outside.

  I still thought he looked like a bulldog with his round face and almost invisible neck, and he was wearing the same sports jacket with the lining peeking below the back. He pulled me away from the doorway, out of earshot of a couple exiting the dining hall.

  “St. John said you were there when the victim’s husband and the other guy started throwing punches. I took them in for fighting, but they both clammed up and asked for lawyers. You want to tell me what you know?”

  Lieutenant Borgnine was very interested in hearing that Lou had been up here all along and suspected his wife was meeting someone. He was even more interested in hearing that Michael and Edie had been involved and that Michael was trying to break it off.

  Lieutenant Borgnine grunted a thank-you and said he was going to scramble to gather evidence while he had them in custody.

  “That’s wonderful that they’ve caught Edie’s killer or killers,” Kris said, letting out a sigh of relief after I’d returned to the table and told them all what Lieutenant Borgnine had said.

  Olivia seemed the most relieved. “Now maybe he’ll leave me alone.”

  “So, I guess that’s that,” I said. It seemed a little anticlimactic. I noticed that Scott had watched all the proceedings from another table but figured out something was going on and joined th
e group as we walked toward the door. Bree latched onto him and started filling him in. Her version was a little cockeyed, but she did have the important part: Edie’s killer had been caught.

  As we joined the rest of the throng walking up the path toward the center of Vista Del Mar, I saw Dr. Sammy sitting on a bench doing coin tricks for a group of wide-eyed kids. I let my group go on ahead, and I stopped beside him.

  The kids applauded when he finished pulling a coin out of a boy’s ear. The wanted to see more, but he turned his attention to me.

  “Later, guys,” he said to them as he got up and joined me. When we were finally alone, Sammy stood facing me. I expected one of his goofy tricks like pulling scarves out of thin air, but for once there were none. “I heard the manager snagged the guy who killed your retreater.”

  I groaned. So Kevin St. John was taking all the credit. I told Sammy what really happened, and he seemed impressed as he brushed some pine needles off my shoulder. Before I could ask him what he was doing there, he explained.

  “Your mother was going to come to help you pack up, but I suggested I come instead,” he said. “I figured it would be easier for you.”

  “I didn’t say I was taking them up on their offer,” I said indignantly.

  “C’mon, Case,” he said. “You know you’re going. Everything is worked out. We all fly back to Chicago together and you leave for Paris on Wednesday. The new session of classes begins the following Monday.”

  I was stunned that my mother had gone ahead and set everything up when I hadn’t officially said yes. Dr. Sammy knew all of the problems my mother and I had with each other, and it didn’t seem to faze him in the least. He didn’t take sides, just tried to work things out. And he was right. I was going to say yes, and packing things up with his help would be a lot more peaceful than with my mother’s.

  “Could you come back during lunch?” I said. “I want to be with my group for this morning’s workshop.”

  “No problem. I’ll hang out in the building with the table tennis.” Sammy looked around at a cypress tree with its windblown horizontal shape and the dunes. The white sky was dissolving, and it seemed like we were in for some sun. “I can see why you like it here.”

  I felt like I had to do something, so I touched his hand before going on my way.

  The group had already gathered in our meeting room. It felt cozy and intimate with the warming fire. I added the muffins to the coffee and tea service on the counter. Everyone was busy at work now, trying to make the most of the time. I watched them for a moment before joining in and was struck by the change in them since the beginning of the weekend. We’d all been just a group of strangers, and now we’d shared secrets, fears, and, sadly, the loss of one of our group. Just one more time together after lunch and then we’d all go our separate ways.

  Olivia smoothed out the lacy shawl she was making out of the sparkly purple cashmere yarn. It was so delicate looking, I thought it might float in the air. Though she hadn’t said it, I thought she was enjoying working with the luxury yarn.

  Sissy held up her cabled scarf and checked her work. It wasn’t finished, but the young woman was confident she could manage knitting the rest on her own. There was a definite look of pride in her eyes, and for once her mother wasn’t adding her opinion. Melissa was too busy getting some help from Kris with the black-and-white houndstooth print scarf.

  Scott had completed the most inches of anyone, but then he was working on huge needles. But I still hadn’t seen him knit anywhere but in the privacy of this room or in the shadows of the Sand and Sea lobby. He might have been the most wistful about the end of the retreat, because it was also the end of his having so much freedom to knit.

  I sat down next to Lucinda, who was happily doing her seed stitch. I admired the textured surface of her work as I picked up my needles. I was pleasantly surprised when my hands seemed to know what to do as I worked through another row.

  It seemed like a perfect moment for us all.

  But then Kevin St. John had to come in and ruin the mood. The dark suit and somber expression made him look more like an undertaker than the host of the conference center. His gaze went directly to me.

  “Oh, you’re here. I thought you’d be across the street packing.” Then he ignored me and addressed the table.

  “I’m already working on a wonderful retreat for you yarn lovers. It’s going to be way beyond the scope of the current one or any that Joan Stone arranged. To keep it special, we’re going to limit how many people can participate. I want to give you people the first chance to sign up.”

  I was shocked to see he had already made up a full color brochure, which he dropped at each person’s place. “You’ll note the last page has the sign-up. Just fill it out and give me a small deposit and your position is assured.”

  Of course, he didn’t drop one in front of me. He continued to ignore me. Olivia seemed fixated on something out the window, and I took the opportunity to pick up her brochure and look at it.

  There were a lot of pictures of Vista Del Mar, along with shots of Cadbury by the Sea and promises of a trip back to a simpler time, but no real substance. A whole page had been devoted to Cadbury Yarn. He must have made some kind of deal with Crystal and Gwen to handle the yarn craft part of the retreats. Maybe he’d convinced them they’d sell so much yarn, they were willing to throw in their skills for nothing.

  “Good luck with the retreats,” Kris said to him. “I’ve loved being the master teacher, but now it’s time for me to move to a bigger arena. It looks like everything is working out. Casey is going off to Paris, you’re taking over the retreats and I am going to be traveling around as spokesperson for the Retreat in a Box business.

  “The losers are us,” Bree said. “I was hoping to come to another weekend with you guys.”

  “Really?” Lucinda said. “I thought you were so lost being on your own and you were so upset about leaving your kids.”

  “Maybe at first,” she said, looking sheepish, “or for most of the weekend, but then something kicked in. I was talking about things that interested me to people who shared that interest. When I’m home I kind of lose sight of who I am.”

  Kevin didn’t miss a beat. “I’m planning to put some self-help workshops into the weekends.” He was looking up at the ceiling, and I could see his eyes were darting from side to side. He was making it up as he went along. I shuddered to think of him running the yarn retreats. He certainly wouldn’t have sat up with Bree the way I did. It was just business to him. My aunt must have made some money from them, but I knew her real motivation was that she loved yarn craft and the people who did it.

  “You’re all so busy talking about future retreats, but what about Edie?” Melissa said, directing her gaze at Kevin St. John. “Have the police figured out which of those two men did it?”

  “Lieutenant Borgnine is handling the situation. He’s an experienced investigator,” Kevin said with pride in his voice as if the cop’s abilities reflected on him. “Before he came to Cadbury, he was an investigator for the Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department.” Kevin tried to reassure them that justice would be served, and nothing like that would ever happen again. “Not on my watch,” he said, giving me a disparaging nod. How could it be my fault that Edie had been murdered?

  I was happy when he finally left, and I had to bite my tongue to keep from saying anything bad about him. My feelings were based on my own dealings with him, and I didn’t want to color theirs if they wanted to come back to his future retreats.

  Kris looked at her watch and said it was time to stop. “Let’s just leave everything the way it is. You can pick up where you left off this afternoon. It will be the last chance to get my help on anything, so think about it during lunch.”

  Kris left the room ahead of us, but the rest of us walked as a group down the path. As we got to the center of Vista Del Mar, we passed the small cha
pel just as the doors opened and a group came out. When I saw the woman in the white dress and the man in a suit, I realized it must be the wedding connected to the party I’d seen on the deck of the Lodge at the beginning of the weekend.

  I was enjoying the happy sight when I heard someone bellow “no” followed by sobbing. It seemed to be coming from our group, and when I turned, I saw Olivia’s face was squeezed in misery. I didn’t want the wedding party’s happy moment to be ruined, so I stepped close to Olivia and directed the rest of the group to follow.

  En masse we moved away from the chapel to the boardwalk and onto the beach as Olivia sobbed and wailed. Finally she collapsed on the sand as her sobs turned into hiccups. I knelt next to her and put my arm around her while smoothing her red-toned hair off her face.

  Gradually she calmed down and then looked up at everyone with something new in her eyes. “Thank you all for your support just now,” she said, clearly really meaning it. “I think I owe you all an explanation.” It was as if the whole facade she’d had all weekend had suddenly melted and she became part of the group.

  She glanced over us all with a sad smile. “My ex-husband got married this weekend. I’ve been trying not to think about it, but when I saw the happy couple coming out of the chapel, it was like I was seeing my ex and his new bride.” There was a hum of sympathy from us all as arms reached out to touch her. “My son arranged this trip. He said it was a gift, but I think the plan was to get me out of town because they were afraid I might show up at the wedding and make a scene.”

  She had to take a moment to collect herself before she continued. “Can you imagine how hard it is to deal with their happiness when it is based on my misery? Both my daughter and son went to the wedding.” Her little smile had faded, and she just looked sad. “I can’t help it; I feel like they’re traitors.”

  “Maybe your son did it so that you could be somewhere else and avoid the whole thing,” Bree said. “It could have been out of compassion.”