A Man of His Word

by Karen Kelly

  Annie looked around her and saw what Mary Beth meant. The baskets, bins and shelves displayed a meager amount of stock. The copious boxes of beginner kits Annie had noticed when she had shopped for supplies were gone.

  “You and Kate must be exhausted!”

  “’Tis the season! I’ll rest on Christmas Day.” Mary Beth grinned. “Seems folks are turning to handmade gifts these days. It’s exciting, as long as we can keep up with our stock.” Mary Beth dug back into the box and pulled out two more skeins. “Vanessa worked several hours on Saturday, stocking the shelves. Couldn’t have done it without her.”

  “Will Kate be running the meeting?”

  “Yes,” Mary Beth answered. “I’ll try to pop by for a little while, but I need to get some of these boxes unpacked first. Right now it looks like I’m barricading myself from customers.”

  The door opened, and Alice and Peggy entered in a burst of chatter. “Look who I kidnapped from the diner,” bragged Alice.

  “She came in the nick of time.” Peggy shoved the hood of her coat back. “The boss was about to talk himself into making me stay until Alice shamed him into letting me come.”

  “Turned your double-barreled wiles on him, did you?” Mary Beth chuckled.

  “Please!” Alice waved the comment aside. “This was strictly a single-barrel job.”

  “Heaven help the man who gets the double!” The ladies all had a laugh at that, and the laughter brought Kate from the meeting.

  “Hurry, you three.” Kate waved them along. “There’s something you’ve got to see!”

  The three ladies obeyed, their imaginations running wild over possibilities. Stella dressed as Mrs. Claus and Gwen as a reindeer? They saw the chairs circled as usual, but with Gwen and Stella standing side by side, obviously trying to conceal something behind them.

  “Good morning, ladies!” Gwen’s voice was merry. “Very good morning indeed!” Then she stepped to the left, and Stella stepped to the right to give the newest arrivals a full view of what was behind them.

  Simultaneously, all three women gasped. The tall box Kate had decorated for the Santa’s Stocking donations was filled—filled and overflowing, in fact. Boxes of games, craft kits, books, action figures, sports equipment, and toys of every kind were piled all around the box.

  Alice turned to Peggy. “You didn’t know about this? How is that possible?”

  Peggy shook her head, grinning to beat a wide-mouthed frog. “With all the shoppers coming into the diner, I was pulling double shifts Saturday and yesterday. Haven’t had time to gather any news!”

  Annie shook her head in wonder. “It’s only the fourth day of December! Just think how much there will be by the delivery day.” She turned to Kate. “I think you’re going to need to decorate more boxes.”

  Now that Annie was closer to Kate, she could see a hint of fatigue in her friend’s eyes, but they were still joyful.

  “I plan to do exactly that, Annie, as soon as we have everything restocked. We’re expecting another big delivery this afternoon.” The ladies filed back into the main part of the shop and found their seats in the circle of comfy chairs by the front window. Kate lifted her crochet work off a chair and sat. “I need to make the most of our meeting to crochet as much as I can. I don’t know when I’ll have time to sit again to work on it.”

  Stella turned her eyes—still keen in her eighties—to the piece dangling from Kate’s hook. “Has everyone seen the cloche you already made to match that scarf?”

  “I haven’t,” said Annie. “I’d love to see it. Your work always inspires me.” Her own hook held a half-completed hat in navy blue with a red plane. The eight-year-old boy she was making it for had listed aircraft as one of his interests. She reminded herself to stop by the hobby shop to buy the model airplane kit she planned to give with the hat, scarf, and glove set.

  Kate obliged, retrieving the cloche from her bag. “It’s for a thirteen-year-old—a girl, obviously. She said she likes vintage chic so I thought of this pattern.” A shade of worry showed in her eyes. “I hope she likes it.”

  “How could someone who likes vintage chic not love it?” said Gwen. “It’s so striking!”

  “The color choice is perfect,” added Alice, “and you know how picky I am about color.”

  “Do we ever!” Peggy declared to everyone’s amusement, especially Kate who had many times helped Alice pick just the “right” colors for a cross-stitch project, whether they were included in the pattern she was using or not.

  “Thank you, Alice,” said Kate, placing the hat in Gwen’s outstretched hand. “That was just the boost of confidence I needed.” She resumed crocheting the matching scarf, the swift and precise motion of her hands almost hypnotizing.

  “I could use some confidence myself,” Peggy confessed, reaching into her quilt bag. “The little girl I chose loves arts and crafts, so I made this.” She pulled out a twelve-inch quilted square organizer with a double handle and Velcro closure. Pulling on the covered Velcro strip, she opened it up to reveal a sturdy backing that supported different-size pockets on one side and two elastic strips for holding a pad of art paper on the other.

  Peggy pointed to the smaller pockets. “These are for colored pencils. The larger ones are for crayons.” Peggy closed the case to show them the outside. “On the front, a pocket for stickers, stencils, and whatever. Do you think it’s sturdy enough?”

  “It’s adorable, Peggy,” said Annie. “May I look at it closer?”

  “Sure.” Peggy handed it to her. “Do you think it would last long if Joanna were using it?”

  Annie turned it over in her hands, examining the stitching of the Velcro closure and the handles. Then she opened it up, slipping her fingers in each pocket to feel how much give the material would have with pencils and crayons moving in and out. Shutting it again she gave it back to Peggy.

  “In my grandmotherly opinion, I’d say it would last a good long time in Joanna’s hands. And that’s saying something. You came up with a clever design, Peggy.”

  “Oh good.” Peggy sighed. “I didn’t have time to make a tester for Emily, though I think I’m going to have to make one for her by Christmas. She flipped when she saw it.”

  Gwen held her hand out next. “May I see it?” Peggy passed it over to her. “The quilt pattern is so sweet. The girl loves cats?”

  “Yes, cats and arts and crafts.”

  “The colors match Stella’s outfits.” Gwen reached for the organizer over next to the small pullover sweater dangling from Stella’s needles.

  “They do, indeed,” said Stella, needles dancing in a constant rhythm. “However, I’m told this little one is partial to puppies.”

  Around the circle, the ladies enjoyed seeing the cute, bright pattern of the sweater. Stella didn’t usually do cute.

  Gwen passed the organizer back to Peggy. “I can see this becoming one of those treasures the girl will want to take with her everywhere she goes.”

  “I hope so,” said Peggy. “That’s why I made the handle and seams as sturdy as I could.” She reached into her bag and pulled out some quilt squares. “I want to make her a matching quilt too, but I don’t know if I’ll get it done with all the overtime. It may end up as a kitty-sized quilt.”

  “That sounds like a great idea!” said Alice. “I had a horrible time coming up with ideas for a nine-year old girl. Cross-stitch isn’t quite as versatile for clothing. So I bought a plain-cover journal that I’m customizing; a treasure box with decorated top and sides.” She displayed a strip of inch-wide 10-count plastic canvas in her hand. “And a cuff bracelet. She said she likes purple so I’m using purple, blue, and gold for the design.” Her needle poked up from underneath; Alice carefully drew it up so the floss wouldn’t tangle.

  Annie watched the pattern of her friend’s handwork begin to form. “It might have been horrible for you, but I think it will be wonderful for the girl. All three things are perfect choices for a nine-year-old.”

  Gwen looked down
at the heavy, hooded jacket she was knitting in navy and charcoal gray. “Everyone’s things are so colorful and cheerful. Except mine.”

  “Gwen, you’re making something that a teenage guy will wear months out of every year and in a popular pattern,” said Kate. “Boys that Vanessa knows don’t like embellished, colorful clothes. Your jacket is a perfect fit for the guy you chose.”

  Considering her work at arm’s length, Gwen nodded. “I guess you’re right, Kate. Thanks.” She resumed her knitting.

  Peggy cleared her throat. “Now that we’ve heard about what everyone’s making,” she said, “I’d like to hear from Annie about how the mystery solving is going.”

  “I second that!” said Mary Beth, as she came out from behind the counter to join them. “Alice says you were in Cape Elizabeth last weekend.”

  A sly grin spread across Annie’s face. “I was wondering how long it would be before someone asked.” She glanced at her watch. “Y’all have shown admirable restraint.”

  “Yes, we have,” declared Stella. “So, please do update us.” While fingers kept moving, every face turned toward Annie.

  For the next several minutes the only voice was Annie’s as she described her visit with the Atwaters. When she got to the part where she drove away with Maude’s scrapbook, Peggy could hold back no longer. “Did you find any clues?”

  “Do you remember that word Reverend Wallace couldn’t translate, and it turned out to be the name of a goddess?”

  Alice had shared that tidbit with everyone, so around the circle, heads nodded.

  “In Maude’s book she’d saved an article from the Portland Press Herald about the destruction of a ship in Portland Harbor in which a sailor was killed,” Annie said. “The ship’s name was Song of Laima! Reverend Wallace had translated the Latin word carmen for us, which means song. Oh, and guess where the ship was from?” Annie pointed a finger at Alice.

  “No telling,” Alice said.

  Peggy’s face squinted in concentration. “That day in the diner, didn’t Mr. Mayor think one of the notations were latitude and longitude for somewhere?” She paused to think back. “Where was that again?”

  Annie didn’t remember Peggy being at the table when Ian had made his guess, but she wasn’t surprised she’d heard it anyway.

  “Yes, he was right, Peggy. Can you believe it? The ship was from a port in Lithuania!”

  “Do you think all the notations revolve around this event?” asked Kate.

  “My gut feeling is that they do,” answered Annie. “There was an Italian sailor who was arrested and charged with arson and manslaughter, and Uncle William presided over the trial. The accused man’s name was Dante Bianco, and his last name translates ‘white’ in Italian. Remember the Latin word albus that also means ‘white?’ I suppose this man could have a wife or daughter named Daisy that could explain the biblical references to widows and orphans. But right now, I don’t know if Bianco was convicted or not—or if he had a Daisy in his family.”

  Annie sighed.

  “There are so many notations I still can’t figure out a reason for,” she said “I think there is something about the trial that haunted Uncle William for years, but I need to find more pieces of the puzzle.”

  “Annie, the Maine Historical Society could be a great help with this,” said Gwen. “Since you’re researching a historical event that occurred right there in Portland, they are sure to have helpful information in their collections.”

  Stella’s head dipped slightly. “Especially the society’s Brown Research Library. The society has been collecting materials since 1822, and the library staff is very knowledgeable and helpful to researchers of all kinds. The library stands right on the same grounds as the Maine Historical Society Museum and Wadsworth-Longfellow House.”

  “But, of course, you can’t slog through all those collections by yourself,” chimed in Alice.

  Peggy added, her head bobbing, “It would take you forever.”

  The ladies looked around the circle and chorused together.

  “Road trip!”

  13

  For the next six days the members of the Hook and Needle Club bustled through their days, working on their Santa’s Stocking gifts and making arrangements to clear their calendars for Tuesday’s trip to Portland. Peggy set her New England determination against her boss’s and managed to finagle a free day. Had she been asking for Friday or Saturday, it was doubtful even her advanced tactics would have been victorious.

  After the meeting had concluded, Kate had informed Mary Beth she knew how much needed to be done in the shop, and she didn’t expect to be able to join the others for the trip. At first, Mary Beth agreed with her employee’s plan, but at the end of the intense week of work, she noticed Kate’s energy lagging.

  The following Monday, as Kate was leaving at the end of the day, she said to Mary Beth, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  In the middle of tweaking the window display, Mary Beth turned around and placed her hands on her younger friend’s shoulders.

  “No, you won’t,” she said, looking into Kate’s tired eyes.

  Puzzlement wandered into those eyes. “Uh … what? Aren’t I working ten to six tomorrow?” Vanessa had a meeting after school the next day, so Kate had planned to work until her daughter was ready to be picked up.

  Mary Beth unrolled a length of gold wire-edge ribbon to add to the display. “I want you to go on the road trip.” When she saw Kate open her mouth, she continued anyway. “No arguments. Kate, you’ve worked enough overtime to exhaust an Olympic athlete. You’ll be better prepared for the final Christmas shopping days if you’ve had a day doing something completely different with friends.”

  Kate hesitated, even though she knew what Mary Beth said was true.

  “And I know Vanessa will be at the high school late, so you’ll be back in Stony Point in plenty of time to pick her up.” Mary Beth wasn’t going to take no for an answer. She picked up a large pair of shears and snipped the ribbon with a decisive snick.

  Kate could have thrown her arms around Mary Beth for her thoughtfulness, but she knew it would make her uncomfortable to “make such a fuss.” She also wouldn’t want to brave those huge shears.

  Her face relaxed and she nodded. “You’re right. I’d love to spend the day with the others. I’ll tell you all the details on Wednesday.”

  “You’d better.” The warmth in Mary Beth’s brown eyes belied the gruff words. She waved the shears towards the door. “Now, get on home to Vanessa.”

  Kate obliged.

  About that same time, Alice called Annie to finalize the time she should pick her friend up for the ride into town the next morning. They decided eight forty-five allowed them plenty of time and wasn’t too demanding on Alice, who had also been working long hours for her business.

  Annie spent the rest of the evening poring over Maude’s scrapbook again, as she thought about what should be researched further at the library of the Historical Society. She also had to keep shooing Boots off the important heirloom. Apparently, the book’s smell was more enticing than catnip. When she was confident she had everything gathered for the next day, Annie called it a night to get plenty of rest.

  ****

  The furnace must have broken during the night. Annie awoke to her body shivering uncontrollably, her head throbbing. She lifted her head a few inches off the pillow, expecting her whole body to follow so she could grab her winter robe and check the furnace.

  It was then she realized it wasn’t Grey Gables’s thermostat that was faulty. It was hers. Glimmering prickles waved in front of her eyes when she tried to move. Her limbs were unable to respond to her call to action, as though a wayward elephant had her pinned down in some bizarre wrestling hold.

  “No!” she forced out in a croak between chattering teeth. Not today. Summoning all her strength, she turned her head to squint at the clock. Seven thirty. Annie never slept that late, even on the rare occasions when she was out late. But at least there was a
chance Alice was stirring to prepare for the road trip. The road trip Annie had to cancel.

  After a little rest with her eyes closed, Annie held her head with one hand and reached for the phone on the bedside table with the other. As soon as she felt the smooth plastic against her palm she fell back against the pillow, cradling the phone to her. More rest was needed before dialing Alice’s number. Why hadn’t she bothered to take the thirty seconds to input speed dial numbers into this upstairs phone?

  “Annie?” Alice answered on the third ring.

  Her head resting in her free hand, too heavy for her neck, Annie said in a combination croak-whisper, “I’m sick.” She didn’t remember swallowing that ball of barbed wire, so she winced. “We’ll have to … reschedule.” Her croak gave out at the end, but she trusted Alice knew what “resched” meant.

  “You sound horrible, Annie!” Alice gasped. “I’ll be over as soon as I gather a few things together for you.”

  Annie started to speak, coughed, and tried again. “Thanks.”

  “I want you feeling like yourself again as soon as possible. But, Annie, I don’t think the others will want to cancel today. With you being sick, they’ll want to help as much as they can even more. I’ll check with everyone before I come over. Would that be OK?”

  Annie had not considered that possibility. It was difficult to consider anything, what with the elephant, barbed wire, teeth chattering and all. What could she say but, “OK”?

  After Alice reassured her that she would be over as fast as she could, Annie pressed the off button and let the phone fall next to her on the quilt. A few minutes later she remembered the locked doors downstairs. She hoped Alice would bring along the spare key Annie had given her, as she didn’t think she could make it downstairs even if a villain from a Stephen King novel suddenly came after her from up in the attic.

  In Annie’s state, time resembled a Salvador Dali painting, so she didn’t know how long it was before she heard Alice climbing the stairs. Basket dangling from her arm, Alice quietly entered and approached her sick friend. She leaned over and gently pressed the back of a hand against Annie’s forehead.