It was Stella who suggested that the members of the Hook and Needle Club who were present at the rehearsal should take their break up on the fourth floor in the conference room where they could talk privately. Gwen was still sick, but she didn’t normally come to the rehearsal anyway. Mary Beth was also at home. Kate was there that evening, getting some of the actors to try on their costumes to make sure they fit properly. Alice was there too; the main structure for the great hall set had been put in place, and she had started to work her magic to make it look like a real castle. Peggy was at every rehearsal. Now they were all seated around the conference table.
Stella began by once again apologizing to Annie, taking the responsibility upon herself for the disappearance of the tapestry. Though Annie was upset, she didn’t blame Stella and told her so. “It’s not your fault, Stella. Please don’t think that I blame you. I was blaming myself for letting the tapestry out of my sight, but the person we should be blaming is the person who took it.”
Peggy took a long drink from her bottle of water and then asked, “How are we going to figure out who that is? You don’t think it was anyone that’s part of the cast or crew—do you?”
“I hate to think that,” said Annie, “but I don’t see how we can rule it out. Maybe we can spread it around that we are on to a lead.”
“Like what?” asked Kate.
Annie thought a moment. “We could let it be known that I’m going to go to Longfellow next week, to get information about Lily Cornette and the tapestry. That’s not untrue—I really think it would be a good idea to find out everything we can about her. Over the weekend, I’m going to try to go through some more of Gram’s letters too. There might be something there that could help.”
“So, you think telling people about Lily Cornette might help smoke out the culprit?” asked Alice. “Sounds like a long shot to me.”
“Do you have a better idea?” asked Annie.
“Not at the moment,” Alice admitted. “But if I come up with something, I’ll be sure to let you know.” Alice was facing the windows. “Wow! Look at it snow—it’s really coming down. I wonder when that started.”
They all looked out the windows from where they were sitting. “I love the snow,” said Kate. “I’m not crazy about the cold, mind you, but the snow is beautiful.”
Just then, Peggy’s cellphone rang. She looked a little sheepish as she retrieved it from her pocket. Professor Howell had given strict orders that he did not want to hear or see a cellphone during rehearsals. Apparently Peggy had forgotten to set her phone to vibrate. Luckily for her, it hadn’t rung during rehearsal. She looked at the display and said, “It’s Mitzy.” Peggy pushed a button and placed the phone over her ear. “Hey, Mitz. What’s up?” Peggy listened for a minute, her expression concerned.
When Peggy had finished talking and had ended the call, Annie asked, “What is it, Peggy?”
“Mitzy just got home,” said Peggy.
“Didn’t she leave about an hour and a half ago?” asked Alice.
“That’s the point—she said the roads are terrible. She barely made it home. She said she wouldn’t even try going out now.”
All of the ladies got up from their chairs to look out the windows of the conference room. It was difficult to see the street below in the dull glow of the streetlights through the swirling snow. “Maybe we should go down to the main level and see what it looks like from there,” said Stella.
They took the elevator down to the main floor and peered out through the glass doors of the entrance into the Cultural Center. The ladies could see what could only be described as a blizzard. The wind whipped through Main Street and had already begun to bury the cars that were parked along its sides.
“Were they predicting this much snow?” asked Alice.
“I don’t know,” said Annie. “I didn’t listen to the radio or turn on the television today.”
“They were predicting some snow this evening,” said Kate, “but I think this is a lot more than they expected, and I don’t remember hearing anything about such strong winds.”
Just then a powerful gust of wind whipped through, making a fierce howling noise and rattling the doors; the snow was so thick in the air that Annie couldn’t even see the business that was located directly across the street.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if the sheriff calls for a code white,” said Stella. “I should go talk to Professor Howell so he knows the situation. He might not understand that a code white means there are whiteout conditions—that visibility goes down to almost zero, and that no one is allowed out on the roads, even road crews.”
Just then, a tall man, wearing a skullcap, heavy coat, and gloves, and a scarf wrapped around his face, pounded on the outer door, startling all of the women. Alice didn’t hesitate to unlock the door and let him in. He shook off the snow and undid the scarf. It was Ian.
“What are you doing out in this?” asked Annie.
“I was working late at the office, and I’m sorry to say I ignored the phone so I could get some paperwork done. When I checked my messages just a little while ago, I’d had five calls from Chief Edwards. He told me the county sheriff has declared a code white. No one’s going home this evening.”
****
The news that they were all essentially trapped in the Cultural Center affected people in different ways. Most of the students seemed to think it was kind of exciting, and went to the windows in the lobby of the theater to watch the snow pile up deeper and deeper. The locals from Stony Point were worried about their families. Most were busy calling home, including Kate and Peggy.
“Vanessa is all right,” said Kate as she placed her cellphone back in the pocket of her cardigan. “She did her homework, and she said she still has electricity. I told her to call me whenever she wants to. I don’t care what the professor says tonight—if she calls during the rehearsal, I’m taking it.”
“Wally and Emily are all settled in too,” said Peggy. “I’m sure they’ll be fine.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” said Annie. She didn’t have any family in Stony Point, but she did think of Boots at home. Fortunately, she had filled Boots’s water and food bowls just before she came to rehearsal, so the cat wouldn’t starve. Annie thought it might do the chubby feline some good to miss at least one meal in any case.
She knew that Gwen would be fine—her husband, John, would be at home with her, and Annie was certain that Gwen’s son George, who lived in Portland, would be calling to check on both of them. But Annie wondered about Mary Beth. She lived alone, and she didn’t have any children. Her niece, Amy, was far away in New York City, and who knew where Melanie might be. Annie decided to give Mary Beth a call.
When Mary Beth answered, Annie just said, “Are you all right?”
“Who is this? Annie? Is that you?” said Mary Beth.
“Yes, sorry,” said Annie. “I was just calling to make sure you were all right, because of the snow.”
“What snow?” asked Mary Beth.
“Look out your window,” said Annie. She waited a moment.
“When did this start?” asked Mary Beth.
“I’m not sure,” said Annie. “Sometime after six. Did I wake you up?”
Mary Beth confessed that she had been asleep, and Annie apologized for waking her.
“Not a problem,” said Mary Beth. “It’s good to know that someone cares.”
“Lots of people care about you, Mary Beth,” said Annie. “I won’t keep you any longer. Go back to sleep. A code white has been declared, so we’re all stuck here. I’ll call you when I get home, hopefully sometime tomorrow.”
After Annie ended her call to Mary Beth, Ian walked over to talk to her. His hair looked unruly after he took off his hat, and he had “five o’clock shadow” around his jaw. He was usually so neat and well-groomed. She barely resisted the urge to reach up and run her fingers through his tousled hair. Instead, she said to him, “You were crazy to come over here in this—why didn’t you just stay
at your office?”
“And miss all this fun?” asked Ian. “Besides, I didn’t want to be in Town Hall by myself. That place gets spooky at night.”
“With the conditions out there, what if you’d gotten lost on the way here?” asked Annie.
“I could never get lost in Stony Point,” said Ian. “I know the place by heart. If you were to blindfold me and set me loose, I could find my away around just fine. And believe me, walking over here tonight was like being blindfolded.”
“And what if we hadn’t been right there by the doors to have let you in?” asked Annie.
“Then I would have headed on down to The Cup & Saucer,” said Ian. “Jeff would have let me in. He never goes home before ten o’clock, even when he can. Or I would have used my cellphone to call one of you. There are always options.”
“Well, next time, call first before you just plunge into a storm,” said Annie.
“Why?” said Ian. “Would you miss me if I got lost?”
Annie tried to look as if she didn’t care, but she found it hard not to smile. “I might miss you, just the tiniest bit, Ian Butler. You know, sometimes you’re just infuriating.”
Ian turned the full force of his smile on her. “I think you might care about me, just the tiniest bit, Annie Dawson.”
Annie blushed profusely and looked around the room. “We should find out what Stella and Alice are doing.”
Stella and Alice were talking with the professor and Jacob. When Annie and Ian joined them, they were discussing sleeping arrangements and what to do about food in the morning. After Ian made a couple of quick phone calls, they made some decisions. Professor Howell used his “theater voice” to get everyone’s attention and asked them to sit in the house seats.
There were about thirty people present. Annie sat down and looked around and saw Trent Bodkin sitting at the opposite end of the row just in front of her. She had seen him a couple of times since the incident in the workshop. He never acknowledged her, but she noticed that he barely acknowledged anyone, except the professor and Stella, and she had seen him talking with the two young men from the college who were working with him as sound and light technicians. Other than that, Trent appeared to have been born with a perpetual scowl on his face. She felt sorry for him. What a terrible way to live.
“As you are all now aware,” began the professor, “we’re going to have to remain here overnight at the very least. Mrs. Brickson and I and some others have been discussing our situation. First, I think we should continue with our rehearsal this evening. We’re here; we might as well take advantage of it. As far as sleeping goes, Mrs. Brickson has suggested we use the fourth-floor offices, with men in the offices off the east hallway, and women in the offices off the west hallway. We don’t have any blankets, or cots, so we’ll have to sleep on the floors, but we all have our coats, and the carpet is well-padded. Mrs. Brickson has said that the temperature in each room is easily adjustable. There are several chairs if you prefer to sit up, but we’ll have to insist on quiet during the night so that those who want to sleep can. Are there any questions?”
One of the local volunteers raised her hand and asked, “Couldn’t we get rooms at Maplehurst Inn? Surely we could make it across the street.”
“Mayor Butler called to check on that, but the inn is already full, and several of their employees had to stay over after their shifts as well, so they are in the same situation as we are here,” answered Professor Howell.
One young student who was helping as a stagehand raised his hand. “What about breakfast?” he asked.
“Good question,” said the professor. “Mayor Butler tells me that the owner of The Cup & Saucer across the street is staying overnight at his establishment and plans to be open for business in the morning no matter what. If the roads are still closed at that time, we should still be able to walk across the street.”
With those plans in place, the professor called for everyone to take their places to begin the second act. It had now been forty-five minutes since the beginning of the 20-minute break that they had planned. The excitement of the snowstorm seemed to have regenerated everyone, and the scenes seemed to go a little better than they had before the break.
It was nearly eleven o’clock by the time they had wrapped up the rehearsal and everyone had made their way up to the fourth floor. Stella and Dolores went into the conference room, and Stella asked Annie, Alice, Kate, and Peggy if they wanted join them in the large room.
Stella seemed exhausted, and sat down in one of the chairs around the table. “I think I’m going to try to sleep in this chair, girls. It’s been a long time since I’ve been to a sleepover. I might not be able to get myself back up off the floor once I lay down.”
“Would you like to put your feet up in a chair?” asked Peggy.
“That might not be a bad idea,” replied Stella.
Peggy carried a chair over from along the wall and sat it in front of her elderly friend. Stella put her feet in the chair; she closed her eyes, opening them again as Peggy covered her with her coat. “Are you warm enough?” Peggy asked. “If you need more cover than your coat, you can have mine—I’ll be fine.”
Annie could see that Stella was touched by Peggy’s generosity. “No, Peggy. You cover up with that. I’ll be fine here. Maybe if you’d turn the heat up just a bit, that would be good.”
Dolores spoke, “It’s been a long time since I’ve been to a sleepover too, but I think I’m going to try sleeping on the floor anyway. You girls may have to help me up in the morning.”
Annie laughed. “I’ll help you, if you’ll help me.”
“I think I’m going to sleep next to a chair so that I can use it to pull myself up in the morning,” said Alice. She shook her head and said, “We should be fixing each other’s hair and gossiping about boys … that used to be fun, but here it is, Friday night, and I’m too tired to think about doing anything but sleep.”
Each woman, except for Stella, found her own spot on the floor and made herself as comfortable as possible. Kate was nearest the door, so she turned out the overhead lights. Annie’s eyes soon adjusted to the darkness, and from her place on the floor, she could make out the dim light reflected from the streetlights below into the snow above as it shone through the tall windows. She hoped there was no one out trapped in the snowstorm, and she began to silently say a prayer of protection for friends and strangers, and a prayer of thanks for the roof over her head and for warmth. It wasn’t long before Annie heard the steady breathing of the sleeping women all around her. She watched the swirling snow until sleep overtook her as well.
13
Annie awoke feeling stiff and not all that well rested. It wasn’t long after dawn because the room was still a little dark. She could still see snow falling outside, but it seemed a little less intense than it had during the night.
She sat up and did a few stretches to work the kinks out of her joints. Remembering a time when she could have just jumped up from the floor, she took Alice’s idea and reached over to place her hands on the seat of a chair to help raise herself to her feet.
The others were stirring as well. Annie then noticed that Stella’s chair was empty, and she was not to be seen. Peggy was gone too. “Did anyone see Peggy and Stella leave?” asked Annie.
“I did,” said Kate. “I heard the click of the latch and saw them leave about an hour ago, I think. It might have been longer—or not that long—I was still dozing off and on.”
“Oh, my aching back!” said Alice as she rolled over. “Remind me to never do this again!”
Dolores was doing a yoga stretch, her hands grasping the outer sides of her feet and her elbows on the floor; her forehead was resting on her knees.
“Wow, Dolores,” said Alice. “How can you do that?”
Dolores slowly sat up, curling her back one vertebrate at a time, and smiled. “I’ve been doing stretching exercises every morning since I was in my teens. My mother was an acting teacher, among other things, and she
told me that if I wanted to be an actress, I had to always take care of my health. She used to say, ‘If your body and your voice are not in good shape, your acting cannot be in good shape!’” When Dolores repeated her mother’s words, she said them with a cute French accent.
“So, your mother was French, I take it,” said Alice.
Dolores smiled. “Yes—she was a war bride. She became an American citizen, but she remained French, if you know what I mean—she cooked pot-au-feu and baked brioche, and she dressed in the French style—very chic and feminine. She spoke French to me and my brothers and sisters when we were small, and she spoke it to us when we were older if she wanted to get our attention. She always had café au lait with breakfast and drank a glass of wine with dinner. She loved flowers and beautiful things, and she was a very gentle woman—unless we misbehaved. Then she could be quite stern. She had to be that way with five children to care for. My father simply adored her, of course.”
“Are your parents still living?” asked Annie.
“No, they died some years ago,” said Dolores. “My father went first, and my mother lived several years after he passed away. I miss them, but, as my mother would have said, ‘C’est la vie’—such is life—it is the way of things.”
Annie debated whether to mention Dolores’s daughter, Ophelia, to say how sorry she was for her loss, but she didn’t want to bring up the sad memory. It was Dolores who mentioned Ophelia first. “My daughter was so much like my mother. They were great pals. When Cyril and I worked with touring companies and were traveling from city to city, Ophelia stayed with her grandmother here in Maine at the little house Cyril and I live in now.”
“I spent summers with my grandparents in Maine,” said Annie. “I’m glad that I had a chance to do that. Those are wonderful memories, and my grandmother taught me so many things.” Annie paused and then added, “So did my grandfather, of course, but it was Gram who took me in hand to make sure I always had something to do. She was the one who taught me to crochet.”
The Tapestry in the Attic Page 12
