The Sweetgum Ladies Knit for Love (16 page)

Merry felt tears spring to her eyes.

Eugenie frowned in sympathy. “I see. Big changes, hmm?”

“I wish I could do both. Help Jeff out as much as he needs and be with Hunter.”

“You couldn’t take the baby with you to Jeff’s office all day?”

Merry shook her head. “Not for much longer. He’ll start crawling soon. That wouldn’t be fair to Jeff or Hunter.”

“Or you,” Eugenie observed.

Merry let out a small laugh. “I’m not sure I even factor into this equation.”

Eugenie shook her head. “But you do. You’re the equal sign, trying to make both sides of the equation balance.”

Now Merry laughed for real. “That’s exactly how I feel. As if I have to somehow find the perfect formula to make it all work.”

More members of the Knit Lit Society appeared in the doorway, interrupting the conversation.

“Good evening, Maria. Camille.” Merry greeted the others. Esther followed close behind them.

“We’re just waiting on Hannah,” Eugenie said. She glanced at her watch.

Merry hid a smile. Poor Eugenie, who’d never had children, taking on a teenager out of the blue. It had to be a shock to the system.

“She’s probably with Josh Hargrove,” Camille said, her face alight with mischief. “They’ve been hanging out a lot lately. Dante says Josh has the potential to play professional ball.”

“He’s a good kid,” Merry assured Eugenie, even as she hid her curiosity about Camille and the new football coach. The word around town was that they’d had dinner at Tallulah’s after the football game two weeks ago, but she hadn’t heard much since.

As if on cue, Hannah came running into the room. “Sorry,” she said to Eugenie, gasping for breath as she collapsed into her chair. Eugenie looked as if she might scold her but then thought better of it.

“Perhaps we should get started,” Eugenie said. “I know you all have a lot to say about
Romeo and Juliet.
”

Merry thought the librarian was being pretty optimistic. Rather than read the play, she’d rented a performance on DVD. Shakespeare’s language never made sense to her on the page, but when an actor spoke the lines, giving them the proper inflection, she could almost get the gist of it.

“So,” Eugenie said. “What struck you most about the play?”

Everyone was quiet, intently focused as they unpacked their needles and yarn and began to knit.

“Did you all read it?” Eugenie asked with quiet patience and only the slightest hint of exasperation.

“Of course,” Esther said, “but I have to be honest, Eugenie. I’ve always thought this Romeo and Juliet business was a bunch of nonsense. Star-crossed love is a sentimental indulgence.” Esther’s face had a pinched look to it, which was hardly unexpected under the circumstances. Merry had heard through the grapevine that Frank Jackson had not left his widow in good financial shape. People in Sweetgum were polite enough not to mention it to Esther’s face but not good enough to refrain from gossiping about it.

Eugenie nodded, not in agreement but in acknowledgment of Esther’s opinion. “What about the rest of you? Do you think Romeo and Juliet were self-indulgent?”

Camille set her knitting on the table. “I think you can’t let your feelings run away with you. Even if you’d like to let them. You have to keep things in perspective. Keep your goals in mind.”

Hannah flipped her copy of the book onto the table in front of her. “Shakespeare had it right. It had to end badly.”

“Why is that?” Eugenie asked.

“Two people from different groups trying to get together. Cliques are there for a reason.”

Maria shook her head. “There’s no such thing as true social division. Not really. I mean, I know some people think they’re better than others, but we’re all the same at heart.” She stopped and then flushed, obviously embarrassed at her own vehemence, and returned her attention to her yarn and needles.

“Other people’s interference doomed them in the end,” Merry said to divert attention from Maria. “All those people carrying messages that didn’t get there in time. If Romeo and Juliet had just been left alone, they probably would’ve gotten married, had some kids, and turned into a boring old couple who finished each other’s sentences.” She laughed. “That doesn’t sound nearly as romantic, does it?”

“Romance is highly overrated,” Camille said, and Esther nodded in agreement. Their emphatic dismissal saddened Merry. She wanted everyone to find their happily-ever-after as she had with Jeff, even if there were sometimes big bumps in the road, like the day care issue. Though if she were honest with herself, some of her reluctance to work full time came from what she knew other people would say about Hunter being in day care. The group of moms who had been her mainstay since Courtney was a baby would look at her like she was Abraham about to sacrifice Isaac on the stone altar.

These women e-mailed one another articles about the evils of warehousing children in day care. Many of them had their children in the Mother’s Day Out program at the church, but in their minds, nine o’clock until two in the afternoon didn’t count as day care, not when it was only two or three days a week. It gave them enough time to play some tennis at the country club, do their shopping, and maybe have lunch with friends without feeling as if they were depriving their children. But the moms who used the extended care hours were a different breed entirely,
and Merry was about to cross that great divide. A traitor to the sanctity of motherhood, a—

Okay it wasn’t that bad. Most of her friends would understand. Only a very few would be as judgmental as she feared, and they weren’t people whose opinions she valued. Still, she dreaded the whispers and the sidelong looks. Or maybe her concern about other people’s opinions was just a smoke screen to keep her from focusing on the real issue—how incredibly difficult it would be to drop Hunter off at the church each morning and know she wouldn’t see him again until dinnertime.

“So what projects did you come up with?” Eugenie asked, breaking into Merry’s reverie and deftly turning the disagreement to a more productive vein. “I thought that limiting ourselves to garter stitch might stimulate us creatively.”

“I’m afraid I wasn’t very original,” Merry said, opting to go first. “Just a shawl.” She reached into her bag and retrieved the dark blue garment, laid it out on the table in front of her. “I thought it might suit the Nurse character. Sturdy. No-nonsense, kind of like her.”

Eugenie nodded her approval, which always made Merry feel like she’d accomplished something. “Other projects?” the librarian asked. “Camille?”

“I did a little cap. For Juliet.” The sparkly pink yarn didn’t look particularly Shakespearean, but Merry could see Camille wearing the small hat come wintertime.

“Very nice.” Again, Eugenie nodded in approval. “Esther?”

Esther shook her head. “I’m sorry, Eugenie. I wasn’t able to finish mine.”

Merry hated seeing Esther look so pinched and pale. She hoped Eugenie would go easy on the new widow.

“I know you’ve had a lot on your plate,” Eugenie said, and Merry relaxed a little. The librarian’s recent marriage had definitely softened her a bit. “Maria?” Eugenie asked, diverting everyone’s attention to the newest member of the group.

“I made a pillow, scented with lavender. For Romeo, I guess. To give him sweet dreams about Juliet.”

Hannah snorted, but Eugenie silenced her with a look. Merry watched with interest as Maria blushed like a schoolgirl. Who would have known that beneath the guise of a thirtysomething spinster beat the heart of a romantic?

The pillow was pale blue. Merry reached out to run her fingers over the soft wool. “It’s lovely, Maria. Very impressive.”

“Thank you.” She shot Merry a grateful look.

“Hannah, why don’t you show yours?” Eugenie prompted. Merry watched with interest as the girl pulled a bundle of deep red wool out of her bag.

“It’s no big deal,” the girl began, but Eugenie interrupted her.

“I think it’s quite accomplished. You should put it on, to give the full effect.”

Hannah looked like she’d rather eat dirt, but she complied with Eugenie’s request. She whipped the garment about her
shoulders. It was a little elbow-length capelet, at once charming and sensuous. Much like Juliet herself, Merry thought. The color suited Hannah very well.

“You worked very hard on it,” Eugenie said. “And your effort paid off. I’m very proud of you.”

The girl blushed to the roots of her hair, but Merry could tell she was pleased by the librarians approval.

“What about you, Eugenie?” Merry asked. “What’s your project?” No doubt the librarian had read the play forward, backward, and sideways. She was sure to have found the perfect project for
Romeo and Juliet.

“Actually…” Eugenie paused and cleared her throat. “Actually, I’m not quite finished with mine.”

A dead silence fell on the group. Merry suppressed a chuckle. In all the time the Knit Lit Society had been meeting, she’d never known Eugenie not to be fully prepared. Sometimes she even had more than one project ready to display.

“Time seems to have gotten away from me this month,” the librarian said, not quite looking any of them in the eye. Merry looked around the group and realized she wasn’t the only one holding back a smile.

“After all the times the rest of us haven’t finished by the meeting,” Merry said, hoping to relieve Eugenie’s embarrassment, “I’m sure you’re due a free pass.”

Eugenie flashed Merry a grateful look. “Now, for next month, I thought I’d be a bit more specific about the project.”
She laid both hands on the table in front of her. “For the Song of Solomon, I thought we’d use the purl stitch to make something for someone we love.” She paused. “Not necessarily love in a romantic way, of course.”

Merry heard more than one sigh of relief. While she and Eugenie, as the married ladies in the group, should theoretically have their love lives sorted out, the rest of the group was definitely in flux.

“Is that agreeable?” Eugenie asked, but Merry knew that none of the others would take exception to her assignment. “Good, then. Very well done, everyone.”

As they gathered up their things and made their way out of the church, Merry paused by the hallway that led to the children’s education wing where the Mother’s Day Out program was housed. She stared down the darkened hallway, worry and fear fighting for equal share of her attention.

Hunter was so small and defenseless. But this was their church, and if she was going to trust anyone to care for him, it would be the people that gathered here.

With a small sigh, Merry hoisted her tote bag higher on her shoulder and headed out into the night.

Early in November, Eugenie opened the Bible that lay on the counter in front of her. From her position behind the high-fronted checkout desk, she could keep an eye on the entire library. At the moment, the only patrons were the ever-present Hornbuckles, an elderly couple who were deaf as posts. Taking advantage of the rare moment of inactivity, Eugenie flipped through the Bibles pages until she found what she was looking for. The Song of Solomon.

The selection had seemed obvious when she’d been making her book list for the year. It was perhaps the oldest love story in Western literature. And although in the Christian tradition the book had mostly been interpreted as an allegory for the relationship of Christ to the church, Eugenie took the older perspective and viewed it as a celebration of Gods gift of romantic love. At least, she did since Paul had come back into her life.

Eugenie skimmed the lines of ancient poetry she hadn’t read
in years, but as she progressed through the book, her cheeks began to suffuse with color.

Had Song of Solomon always been this sensuous? She shifted uncomfortably on the stool and then glanced up and over each shoulder. Those authors of bodice-ripping romance novels had nothing on King Solomon.

As she continued to read, embarrassment gave way to bemusement and then, quite suddenly, she was mesmerized. What she felt for Paul was nothing new. The relationship between a man and a woman was a wonderful, amazing thing, celebrated throughout the centuries. But to see that sensual, almost mystical connection here, between the covers of her Bible, was unexpected. And disturbing. And exhilarating.