The Tapestry in the Attic

by Mary O'Donnell

  “This looks lovely, Alice. Is that a fruitcake?” asked Annie.

  “Yes,” answered Alice. “I meant to have it ready for Christmas, but I didn’t get started soon enough since it takes four to five weeks to age. I made several. After they were baked, I brushed each one with a vanilla syrup I made that included a drop or two of brandy extract, and then wrapped them and put them away in my little pantry to age.”

  “Well, it looks like a work of art,” said Annie.

  “Wait ’til you taste it,” said Alice.

  The two friends settled down to cake and coffee, and after Annie had raved about the flavor of the fruitcake, she got down to the business of Alice’s “mission.”

  “So, what news has Peggy been spreading throughout Stony Point this morning?” Annie asked.

  Alice grinned. Everyone loved Peggy, but they all knew that if you wanted to keep something a secret, she was not the person to tell. “She said that she and Emily were at the Cultural Center for a dance rehearsal last evening. The students from Myra’s School of Dance are going to give a performance next week in the theater, by the way, and Peggy said she was going to invite the Hook and Needle Club to come to see Emily perform with her class. Anyway, as I was saying, they were at the Cultural Center, and apparently Stella was there with some man—Peggy said he looked like a cross between Colonel Sanders and that actor that played Santa Claus in Miracle on 34th Street.”

  “The newer movie or the old one from the forties?” asked Annie.

  “I don’t know—she didn’t specify,” said Alice. “It doesn’t matter. I just imagined a portly older gentleman with white hair and a beard. Peggy said that Stella didn’t notice that she and Emily were there at first, but when she realized Peggy had seen her talking to that man, Peggy thought that Stella seemed sort of embarrassed—she actually blushed. At least that’s what Peggy said. Then Stella excused herself from the gentleman and walked over to speak to Peggy. She would only say that she’d see her at the Hook and Needle Club meeting, and that she wanted to talk to all the members about something important, but she wouldn’t say what it was.”

  “Sounds a bit mysterious,” said Annie. “She had to know that something as cryptic as that was bound to set off all kinds of warning bells in Peggy.”

  “Do you think she’s got herself a boyfriend?” asked Alice, with a mischievous look in her eyes.

  “I don’t think so,” Annie said with a smile. “Can you really see Stella making that sort of announcement at the Hook and Needle Club meeting?”

  Alice laughed out loud at the thought. “No, you’re right. She’d never do that in a million years. I guess the best thing to do is to just go to the meeting and find out what’s going on. Do you mind if I ride over with you today?”

  “Not at all. Let’s just clear up these dishes first and then we can head on out,” said Annie. “I’m curious to find out what Stella could have to tell us that’s so important, and what, if anything, her gentleman friend has to do with it.”

  2

  At one minute to eleven, Annie and Alice walked through the door and into the warmth of A Stitch in Time. It seemed to Annie that the shop catered to every sort of needlecrafter imaginable. Besides all kinds of threads, yarns, and fabrics, the shop contained the tools and patterns needed to turn those basic materials into useful and beautiful treasures. Annie was a crocheter herself, but she had been known to dabble in some of the other varieties of needlework. It was so nice to have a local shop she could rummage through to her heart’s content, and where she could get all the materials she needed for her current project and inspiration for future ones.

  The shop assistant, Kate Stevens, greeted them with a smile from behind the wooden counter where the cash register sat. Kate not only worked in the shop, but was a designer of crochet fashions. That day she was wearing a red shawl over a plain black sweater. The shawl, secured at one side with an antique silver brooch, was looped around her shoulders, its long fringy ends hanging down over one arm. The red color of the shawl set off Kate’s shoulder-length dark hair and dark eyes. Annie thought the shawl had all the attributes of one of Kate’s own creations—the design, the workmanship, and the color choice combined to make a beautiful accessory. Kate’s finished projects were often displayed in the shop and were usually snapped up by the patrons of A Stitch in Time. She had recently won a prestigious award for one of her designs at a needlecraft convention in Texas and had begun to sell her designs to a publisher. As a divorced mom with a teenage daughter, the extra money was most welcome.

  Annie shifted her gaze over to the circle of comfy upholstered chairs where the Hook and Needle Club meeting was held each week. Stella was in her regular place, sitting straight as an arrow, her knitting needles clicking rhythmically as she cranked out a stream of identical stitches. Across from her sat Gwendolyn Palmer. Gwen’s husband was the president of Stony Point Bank, and she was active as a volunteer on all sorts of committees—for the town of Stony Point, at church, and with several charitable organizations. She was a knitter like Stella, but her work style tended to be a little less regimented.

  Both ladies were typically beautifully dressed and coiffed, no matter if the event was large and public, or small and private like the needle club meeting, but again each woman had her own style. Gwen, though slightly older than Annie, had her blond hair layered in the most current style to best accent its natural wave. Stella kept her gray hair in an updo, and the style was normally no-nonsense. Sometimes it looked quite severe, reminding Annie of an old-maid schoolmarm of the olden days, but today, Annie had to admit, Stella’s hair seemed softer and wavier, with a pretty gold clasp holding it in place at the back of the crown of her head. She also seemed to be wearing more makeup than usual. Her cheeks were rosier and … Annie tried to pinpoint what else was different. She gave Alice a questioning sidelong glance, and then, as if Alice were reading Annie’s mind, Alice silently mouthed the word “mascara.” Annie looked at Stella again—that was it; Stella was actually wearing mascara. She never did that. Maybe Alice was right, thought Annie. Maybe Stella does have a boyfriend.

  Annie and Alice had just taken their seats when Peggy breezed in through the door carrying her project bag, her coat unbuttoned, her face flushed, and her dark curly hair whipped up by the wind. The Cup & Saucer, the diner where she worked, was just next door, and each week on Tuesday she took her lunch break at eleven so she could attend the Hook and Needle Club meeting. She plopped down in one of the chairs in the circle, and as usual, kicked off her shoes. “Have I missed anything?” she asked expectantly, looking at Stella.

  Stella smiled at Peggy and said, “No, you haven’t missed anything. I wouldn’t dream of beginning until you were here. Now we just have to wait for Mary Beth. Where is she, Kate?”

  “She had a doctor’s appointment this morning,” replied Kate. Indicating the shop’s glass door with the tilt of her head, she continued, “She ought to be walking through that door any moment now.”

  As if conjured by magic, Mary Beth suddenly appeared at the door, and she pulled it open to enter the store. “Sorry to keep you waiting, ladies,” she said as she headed toward the back room. “Just let me stash my coat and purse, and I’ll be right with you.”

  Mary Beth returned, her short salt-and-pepper hair combed, but rather flat from the hat she had been wearing. The shop was quiet as she and Kate joined the other ladies in the circle, each carrying a small crochet project to work on. As Annie observed Mary Beth, she had the impression that all was not well. Mary Beth kept her brown eyes lowered, and instead of bursting into conversation as usual, all that she said was, “OK, Stella, the floor is yours, as requested.”

  Stella didn’t seem to notice that Mary Beth was subdued and began, “I’m sure you all know that I have something important to discuss with you today.” She looked pointedly at Peggy, but with affection. Peggy smiled back, content in knowing that she had spread the word.

  Stella continued, “It has been our practice
in this group to use our individual talents to help others—whether by making hats and blankets for preemies at the hospital, or by pitching in to help at the yearly auction to benefit the community center, or whatever task is set before us. I’m going to ask that each of you step up once again, and perhaps stretch your abilities in new ways. In December, at the monthly board meeting of the Cultural Center, a young playwright by the name of Jacob Martin, who has had some success in Los Angeles, and who was born and raised in Stony Point, presented us with a proposal: He has written a play he would like us to premiere here, in the Cultural Center’s theater.”

  “Why here?” asked Alice. “If he’s doing so well in L.A., why would he want to come back to our little town?”

  “I’m getting to that,” said Stella. “Early last year, Jacob’s wife died from breast cancer. He wants the proceeds from the performances of his play to go toward breast cancer research. He and his wife met as students at Longfellow College, which, as most of you know, is located not far from Stony Point. He approached his former professor, Rudyard Howell, to direct the play, and also asked him to enlist some of his students who are theater majors. Professor Howell has graciously accepted, and his students will be providing most of the actors and stage people needed, but it’s not enough. We need to include as many locals as are willing to help with things like advertising, providing stage props and costumes, and so on. I’m asking you all to help. Even if you have never worked behind the scenes at a theater, I believe you all have talents that can be used with great effect to make this, our first local production, a success.”

  “Is Professor Howell the man I saw you with at the theater last evening?” Peggy asked.

  “Yes, Peggy. I was showing him around our facility, and I think I can say with confidence that he was impressed with what we have done to build and equip our little theater.” It was a massive undertaking for a town the size of Stony Point, but I think it will prove to be a worthwhile effort with all the opportunities it will provide to bring a bit of culture to our area, not to mention the collateral activity it has brought to businesses in this area.”

  The renovation of the large Main Street structure that was known as the Walker Building for use as the Cultural Center had been in progress when Annie came to Stony Point from Texas, and the main-floor museum had opened not long after she arrived. It had also been decided that a theater would be an asset for educational lectures, travelogues, and for live performances both musical and dramatic. Stella had taken on the task of forming a committee specifically to raise money for the project, and had seen to the planning and construction of the community theater that had taken up the second and third floors of the building. The theater had been completed only a few months earlier.

  The committee decided that in order for all the local people to have a chance to see what the theater was like, they would show a different classic film one or two weekends each month at the cost of only a dollar per person. The theater had already shown several films including Mrs. Miniver from the 1940s and the silent-era movie The King of Kings. They were committed to only providing entertainment that was suitable for the entire family. The theater had also hosted a live performance by a touring dance company which had been a big hit, drawing in many residents from surrounding communities.

  “In addition to the student actors from the college,” Stella continued, “I’ve also asked some old friends of mine who are retired actors—Dolores and Cyril Fortescue—to come to star in the play. Dolores and Cyril are living just north of Stony Point in a little cottage they used as a getaway place when they were performers in the theater. They worked for many years in New York City, which is where I came to know them. They have replied that they would be glad to participate, especially for such a good cause. Their lives have not been untouched by the tragedy of breast cancer.”

  Gwen said, “It’s unfortunate, but I think it would be difficult to find someone who doesn’t have a family member—or at least know of some friend—who has been affected by it. I think this sounds like a wonderful opportunity to do some good. I’ll help in any way that I can. I think John and I can probably help round up some sponsors, and I’d be happy to see what I can do about getting the word out for people who might like to be involved. I have contacts at a print concern in Portland that I’m sure could give us a good quote for printing playbills—posters and programs. I can check that out, if you like.”

  “Thank you, Gwen,” said Stella. “That’s just the sort of spirit I was hoping for. I think if we all pitch in and encourage our friends and neighbors who can spare the time to participate, we can make this a really special event that will be of great benefit, even beyond the confines of our little community.”

  All eyes were on Stella, except Annie’s and Mary Beth’s. Annie had chosen that moment to look over at Mary Beth. Her head was bowed low, as if she was closely examining the crochet work she was holding in her hands, and Annie could see that her mouth was held in a grim line. Annie was concerned. The project that Stella was describing was normally just the sort of thing that Mary Beth loved—she was always in favor of doing all she could to help others. There had to be something else that was on her mind that was preventing her from showing her normal enthusiasm.

  Stella continued to speak, “Trent Bodkin has been our projectionist and our light and sound technician since we opened the theater. He’ll continue to be in charge of that, and he’ll have a couple of students to help him. However, since this is our first production, we haven’t yet built up a repertoire of things to draw from for costumes or for scenes and props. Scenery design is very important, but having someone who can build it for us is just as important. That’s why the board has agreed that we need to budget for a skilled full-time person to build anything that is called for by the script and the director. Stella looked at Peggy and said, “We hoped that Wally would be available to take on the job, Peggy. I know you had said last week that he will soon be finishing up some indoor work for Mrs. Watkins; if he can take on the job, we’d like to contract him for at least two months’ work. Of course, he’ll have some students and volunteers to help him as well, but he’ll be in charge, and the bulk of the work will fall to him.”

  Annie had noticed that as Stella spoke, Peggy’s face clearly showed her emotions on the prospect of being part of a theatrical production—her smile was broad, and her eyes conveyed her excitement. Now she was unable to contain her zeal any longer. “Oh, Stella! This is so wonderful! And I know that Wally is available, or at least he will be by the end of this month when he finishes up that job for Mrs. Watkins. The winter months are often a little slow for him. This will be just the thing! Thank you for thinking of him!”

  “He was the first person who came to mind,” Stella said. “He really is the perfect man for the job. We know he has the skills, and he has a reputation for doing excellent work. If you would ask him to stop by the Cultural Center office tomorrow, we can work out the details.”

  “Certainly! And I’ll be happy to help as much as I can,” said Peggy. “Emily and I just love being in the theater. With all her dance rehearsals, we’ve spent several evenings there. And by the way, I meant to invite all of you to her dance recital next week. I hope you can come. All the little girls just look adorable in their outfits, and the older girls have a great number they’re going to do for the finale.”

  As the ladies confirmed their intentions to be in the audience for Emily’s performance, Stella looked around at the other members of the Hook and Needle Club, her eyes pausing momentarily on Mary Beth who was still keeping her head down and seemingly concentrating on her crochet work. “So, I know that Gwen and Peggy are in favor of this project. Now, I’d like to hear what the rest of you think.”

  “I’m in,” said Alice. “I don’t really know what I can contribute, but it sounds like fun, and it’s definitely for a good cause.”

  “Knowing what an eye for decorating you have,” said Stella, “I hope that you can put that talent to use o
n our set design.”

  “Well, you know that I love to decorate, but I’m not sure what all ‘set design’ would entail,” said Alice.

  “An important thing for everyone to remember,” said Stella, “is that Professor Howell is more than just our director; it’s his everyday job to teach students all the different aspects of theater production, so he knows how to communicate his ideas, and he’ll let us know how they should be carried out, though I don’t doubt that it will require some homework on our part.”

  Annie smiled and said, “That’s good to know. I don’t mind a little homework. I’d like to help too, though I don’t have much experience with theater either. I was part of the chorus in a musical when I was a senior in high school, but that’s all.”

  Stella looked directly at Annie. “You, my dear, have a talent for detail. You notice things that others don’t. And you’re an avid reader, so you’re good with words. I’ve suggested to Professor Howell that you would be a good person to help the actors run through their lines, and to act as a prompter if and when they forget their lines. I hope that’s all right with you.”

  “That sounds like a lot of fun actually,” said Annie.

  Kate spoke up. “I’m in too. And I’m sure that Vanessa will want to be a part of it.” She paused a second and then added, “It’s kind of odd. I think I might know Jacob Martin. There was a guy in my class in high school by that name. He was really shy and quiet. It’s hard to believe he ended up in such a public career as the theater.”

  “It’s my understanding that his wife was instrumental in his career choice,” said Stella. “From what he said when he presented his idea to us at the board meeting, she was the one who believed in his writing talent, and she convinced him that he could write plays. She encouraged him to become a theater major in college.”