Jazzed Page 3

  Vanessa tossed her long locks behind her shoulders and leaned forward in her chair. “Money is so tight, and Mr. and Mrs. Polk are worried about how they are going to pay all of their regular bills and swing Matthew’s surgery too,” she explained, glancing at each woman in the circle. “So our student council is holding a fundraiser at the community center at the end of the month. We plan to collect and sell rummage items, baked goods, and homemade crafts. When I told Mom about it, she said the Hook and Needle Club might be able to help.”

  Peggy grinned, clearly satisfied that she had broken the news to Annie and Alice before Vanessa. She was the first to offer help.

  “I don’t know what I would do if my Emily had to have surgery,” Peggy said. “I just finished cutting out squares of material with Noah’s Ark and animals. I can make a child’s quilt in time for the fundraiser. And maybe the diner can donate a pie or two.”

  Each woman agreed to create some sort of handmade item plus a baked good. Annie offered to use a bit of the rhubarb she had frozen the previous summer to bake a pie using Betsy’s famous recipe, in addition to crocheting a set of colorful coasters.

  “Yum!” Alice rubbed her hands together in delight. “I loved Betsy’s rhubarb pie.”

  Gwen and Stella, both knitters, said they would think about it and decide what to make by the next meeting.

  “Annie, are you going to rummage around the attic for a new mystery to serve up with the pie?” asked Gwen, causing a twittering among the women.

  Annie chuckled. “I’m more than happy to find rummage items, but I plan to keep the mysteries at bay for awhile. After all, I need to spend time working on the coasters and rounding up the pie recipe.”

  “Ahem!” Alice said, making all eyes turn her way. “What she means is she will begin working on the coasters as soon as the poor, unfortunate canine in Texas receives her ploofy sweater!”

  Laughter filled the shop.

  3

  The computer made a loud clicking noise, sounding a bit like it was preparing for liftoff into the wild blue yonder. Annie stared at the blank blue screen and cringed.

  “This doesn’t look or sound good,” she muttered.

  Deciding to reboot the computer, she depressed the Ctrl, Alt, and Delete keys, but there was no response. So she held down the power button until the machine fell silent. Then she pressed the power button and said a little prayer.

  “Thank you, Lord.” Annie listened for the clicking sound as the computer fired up again. But this time its familiar whirring was accompanied by a flip to her email log-in page.

  She typed in her email address and password to discover several new additions to her inbox—an electronic newsletter from her church back in Brookfield, Texas, which she scanned quickly for news of old friends; a notice of sale items from an online needlework store; and a short reminder from Vanessa about the fundraiser for the Polk family. Three pieces of junk mail were deleted immediately without being opened.

  Leaving the computer running in case she needed it later, Annie decided to peruse her growing collection of crochet pattern books for the right coasters to make for the fundraiser. She flipped through several volumes, searching for a pattern both simple and attractive. A simple design would allow her to complete several sets before the fundraiser, which was to be held in less than three weeks. But she also wanted something attractive enough to bring a fair price and a number of buyers.

  The design names made her smile. A pattern called “Dragon Coasters” looked fairly easy and had attractive scalloped edges. But why the “Dragon” name? The simple swirled pastel colors of the “Candied Coasters” reminded her of the cotton candy Gram purchased for her at a fair in Stony Point years ago. And the pinwheel design was different and drew the eye in toward the center of the circle. So many choices!

  But the coaster design aptly named “Nature Star” perfectly suited her requirements. Described as “easy” to make, it had the dainty look of a doily but was touted as absorbent enough to protect a tabletop from glass rings.

  A quick glance at the pattern solidified her decision: Several sets could easily be made before the fundraiser. She set aside the pattern book it was in to take with her to A Stitch in Time.

  She glanced at the computer clock; it was already eleven fifteen. Could it really be nearly lunchtime? Luckily, her breakfast of scrambled eggs and a bowl of oatmeal was substantial enough to hold her for awhile. There was still time to head downtown to purchase yarn for the coasters and a few groceries before hunger would strike.

  Grabbing the pattern book and putting it in her project bag, Annie crossed the house to the kitchen to get the purse she had left hanging on a chair back. She picked up the grocery list she had written while eating breakfast and put it in her purse.

  Passing through the mudroom, she put on her all-weather jacket before braving the wind whipping between the house and her trusty Chevy Malibu, its burgundy paint contrasting with the brown, winter-worn grass.

  Annie had come to love all of the seasons in Maine, each with its quirks and blessings. But she had to admit that she was growing tired of the ceaseless, bone-chilling wind. She looked forward to seeing the yellow and red tulips and purple crocuses peeking out from the ground, and she longed for the lilac bushes to break out in aromatic blooms.

  Her mind was still on the coming of spring as she pulled into the parking place right in front of A Stitch in Time. Perhaps choosing bright colors for the coaster project would help fill her need for warmth and color until flowers began appearing around Stony Point.

  She found Mary Beth and Kate poring through needlecraft books in search of items to make for the Polk family fundraiser.

  “Hi, ya’ll. How’s your day going?” Annie’s Southern drawl no longer drew snickers from local New Englanders. Instead, the two women greeted her with warm smiles.

  “Slow, business-wise. But that’s OK because we have time to decide what to make for the fundraiser,” Mary Beth replied. “We’re having a hard time choosing.”

  Annie pulled the book with the pattern for the “Nature Star” coasters from her project bag. “I found these going through my pattern books this morning. I’d like to do them in several spring colors. I chose an easier pattern so I could complete several sets of six in time for the event. What do you think?” Annie opened the book on the counter for Mary Beth and Kate to see.

  Kate, one of the most gifted crochet artisans Annie knew, nodded in approval.

  “Well, this is easier than what you normally do,” Kate said, “but the pattern has always been one of my favorites. There’s something sort of elegant in its simplicity. And you’re right; this is easily doable in a short amount of time, especially since you’re getting a quick start.”

  Mary Beth picked up the book and walked over to the shelves she had stocked with yarn the day before.

  “What do you think about these?” she said, pulling a skein of each color as she recited their names. “Pea pod, coral rose, honeysuckle, silver cloud, lavender, daffodil yellow.”

  Annie reached out and touched the lightweight yarn cradled in Mary Beth’s arms and smiled.

  “These are perfect! I’ll take one of each.”

  Annie followed Mary Beth to the cash register where Kate was waiting to ring up the order.

  “Oh, Annie, these colors are gorgeous! You know, we have some small muslin bags left over from the holidays. Mary Beth has them marked down to seventy-five cents each. I’ll bet one set of the coasters would fit in each bag.”

  Upon hearing Kate’s words, Mary Beth quickly retrieved six bags from the sale shelf. “I’ll sell you these for fifty cents each to further the cause,” she said, placing them on the counter.

  “Deal!” Annie said, picking up a bag and taking a closer look at it. “What a great idea, Kate.”

  The three friends chatted about the plight of the Polk family and the upcoming fundraiser.

  “Vanessa has such a big heart,” Annie said. “I’ve never seen a teenager wi
th a more positive attitude toward community service and a strong desire to serve others.”

  Mary Beth, who had never married and didn’t have children of her own, had adopted Vanessa as a type of spiritual granddaughter. “Not only is she in student council, on the school honor court, and president of the art club,” she said, sounding every bit the proud grandmother, “but she logs record-breaking hours at the animal shelter. I’ve had so much fun watching her mature into a beautiful young lady, inside and out.”

  “Thank you,” said Kate, always quiet and economical in her word choice.

  “Methinks this compassion was instilled in her by a caring mother,” Annie said, gently patting Kate’s arm. Annie knew how tough it had been for Kate to keep Vanessa grounded in the face of a crumbling marriage and divorce. “You’ve done such a wonderful job raising her. She is a great kid.”

  Uncomfortable with the praise, Kate caught her breath while putting Annie’s purchases in a large paper bag. “I’ve had a lot of help and a great support system. I’m thankful to live in a community where folks rally around each other in the hard times and celebrate together in the good ones.”

  Mary Beth and Annie shared a knowing glance. Kate didn’t realize how special she was.

  Kate handed Annie her bag of crocheting supplies. “Have fun with your coasters! I’ll bet they will be a top seller!”

  Grasping the bag, Annie started for the door. “I will, and I’m looking forward to seeing what you two end up making. Bye now!”

  “Goodbye!” Mary Beth and Kate said in unison.

  Annie stepped out onto the street, clutching the shopping bag in one hand and her car keys in the other. Her heart skipped a beat when she heard a familiar voice call her name. “Annie Dawson, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were avoiding me!”

  Ian Butler, the town’s mayor, walked in her direction. He looked quite dashing in tan corduroys, pine green-and-beige sweater, and an unzipped leather bomber jacket. “Well, fancy meeting you here, outside A Stitch in Time! It’s great to see you, Annie. I’ve tried to call …” Ian said, his voice dissipating into the wind.

  Annie froze beside her car. “Ian! I’m sorry I’ve been so difficult to reach lately,” she stammered. “Please, don’t take it personally.”

  She placed a hand on his arm and glanced up at him, hoping her windblown hair would hide the color rising in her cheeks and the guilty look in her eyes. She hadn’t intended to avoid him; she just didn’t know how to handle the changes evolving in their relationship, which had grown in recent months from polite friendship to something more. But the something more had yet to be defined.

  “Well, I hear you ladies have a new project brewing, so apology accepted,” he said to Annie’s relief. “It’s a wonderful thing you are doing for the Polk family. I understand you’re making a triple contribution, including Betsy’s rhubarb pie.” He looked into her eyes with a tenderness that left Annie speechless. “You’re a blessing to the community, Annie.”

  “Thank you, that’s really sweet, but I’m really just doing the right thing. God calls us all to be servants to others. Anyway, Vanessa deserves the credit. The fundraiser and the Hook and Needle Club’s involvement in it were her ideas,” Annie said.

  She unlocked her car door and tossed the bag onto the passenger seat before turning around to face Ian. “I’m stowing my package in the car while I pick up a few things at Magruder’s. Boots will never forgive me if I return home without her favorite food!”

  Ian chuckled. “I understand completely. Tartan is rather fond of his rawhide bones. I must make sure I have a replacement ready when I toss out the old ratty bone. If I don’t, he pouts.”

  Annie couldn’t envision the high-spirited schnauzer ignoring his owner too long. “What would we do without our four-legged friends to keep us company?” she asked.

  “Indeed. Say, Annie, do you have time to lunch with me at Maplehurst Inn? I’ve just completed a long morning of meetings, and I’m famished.” Ian’s voice was calm, but his eyes were pleading.

  Annie hesitated a second before responding.

  “I’d love to, Ian, really I would. But I must get home. I’ll take a rain check though!”

  “I understand. Another time—soon?” Disappointment tinged his voice. “I miss you, Annie.”

  She looked into his eyes and saw the flicker of hurt in them. Smiling, she gave him the quickest of hugs and a light kiss on the cheek before crossing the street to Magruder’s.

  ****

  Mary Beth and Kate watched Annie close the door and walk several paces to her car.

  “Annie has really become a special part of Stony Point, hasn’t she?” asked Mary Beth. “It’s like she’s always lived here.”

  Kate nodded and walked from behind the counter, taking a few paces toward the door.

  “To think I once believed Harry’s lies and accused her of flirting with him. I wasn’t very nice to her, but she was so kind in return,” Kate said, now able to speak of her ex-husband without cringing or wiping away tears.

  She felt Mary Beth’s arm around her shoulders.

  “Annie’s heart is filled with love and forgiveness. She’s suffered so much with losing Betsy so soon after Wayne’s death. It took a while for a lot of us in Stony Point to warm up to her. You weren’t the only one. But when we got to know her, we adopted her as one of our own. Everyone has helped her heal, just as they nursed my heart back to health when Clyde broke it all those years ago in New York City.” Mary Beth grinned with amusement. “Who knew I’d turn out to be a small-town girl?”

  Kate laughed and stared through the glass door, watching Ian’s face light up as he crossed the street toward Annie.

  “Do you suppose she has any idea how he feels?” Kate mused. “See the way he looks at her? I didn’t know a man’s face could glow like that!”

  “Hmm.” Mary Beth dropped her arm, stepped forward, and leaned a bit closer to the glass. “I’m not so sure Annie realizes how she feels about him. Her eyes are sparkling, but her body looks tense.”

  Kate closed her eyes and willed herself to not think about Harry and the way he bullied her during their marriage. He had never looked at her the way Ian gazed at Annie. Would anyone ever care for her so much?

  Mary Beth stared with obvious disappointment as Annie kissed Ian’s cheek and hurried across the street toward the grocery store. Turning to go retrieve boxes of merchandise from the storage room, she was stopped in her tracks by the longing on Kate’s face.

  “There’s someone out there for you too, Kate,” she said.

  ****

  Arms laden with grocery bags, Annie fumbled with her keys while unlocking the back door to Grey Gables and nearly stumbled over Boots as she entered the kitchen through the mudroom.

  “Yes, Boots, I have your treats.” She placed her packages on the kitchen counter and kneeled down to rub under the cat’s chin, and was rewarded with a loud, continuous purr. “Did you miss me?”

  She stood up and quickly put the groceries away, carefully maneuvering around Boots, who seemed to know that a treat was tucked away in one of the bags waiting for her. When she had finished, the thought of lunch was suddenly very appealing.

  “You may have your treat after I finish making my sandwich,” said Annie as she removed two slices of whole-grain bread from the wrapper and placed them on one of Gram’s delicate floral china plates.

  The roast beef had looked too good to pass up at Magruder’s, so she had grabbed a bit of brie and horseradish to fix her favorite sandwich for lunch.

  “Voilà … a masterpiece!” Annie said, her dramatics drawing a blasé look from Boots. “Yes, ma’am, you may have your treat now.”

  Annie fished a cheesy treat from the zip-top foil bag and stored the rest in the cat’s treat canister.

  “Here you go. Don’t eat it all at once.”

  While Annie washed her hands, Boots took the treat to her bowl to munch in peace. When the sandwich was gone, Annie sighed and wip
ed her hands on a pink-and-burgundy cloth napkin. “I believe I’ll spend the rest of the day finishing up Ariel’s sweater,” she told the feline, who was engrossed in crunching her treat.

  After washing her lunch dishes, Annie put one of her new jazz CDs in the player and hunkered down on the living room couch, intent on finishing the sweater. Several hours passed quickly. Annie took breaks after each CD finished play—a tea break in midafternoon and light dinner later. With Boots curled up beside her, Annie hooked the last stitch on the sweater just as the final strains of Moonlight Serenade faded into silence. Tomorrow she would put on the finishing touches.

  Yawning, she placed the dog sweater back in her craft bag. After turning off the CD player and the lamp in the living room, Annie padded into the library to shut down the computer.

  As the computer completed its noisy process, Annie studied the portraits hanging on one wall between the desks. From one frame, Betsy and Charlie gazed down at her in their Sunday best. My, wasn’t Grandpa handsome with his dark hair and distinguishing mustache! The photographer had somehow managed to capture the twinkle in his eye. He caught Gram’s lighthearted energy in her warm smile. Whoever took this photo must have known Gram and Grandpa pretty well to have captured their personalities so perfectly.

  In the other portrait, they were joined by their young daughter, Judy—Annie’s mother—looking a bit like Shirley Temple with her dimples and ringlets. As many times as Annie had looked at the portrait since moving to Stony Point, this was the first time she had noticed how much the twins resembled their grandmother. The photos had faded so much; time and oxidation had taken their toll.

  Annie turned off the library lights and headed upstairs, thinking of the portraits and the possibility of having them reprinted or restored. Where in the world would Gram have stored the negatives?

  4

  There it was. Shooter’s home loomed in front of him, a tall brick building close to the street. Not a tree or blade of grass in sight. Charlie loped up the four steps and opened the creaky wood-and-glass door to find several rows of mailboxes. He scanned them looking for Shooter’s name. There, 322. Up two flights of stairs.