Read Till Death Do Us Purl Online
Authors: Anne Canadeo
Till Death Do Us Purl (2 page)
Suzanne Cavanaugh
is a typical working supermom—a realtor with a million demands on her time, from coaching soccer to showing houses to attending the PTA. But she carves out a little “me” time with the Black Sheep Knitters.
Phoebe Meyers,
a college student complete with magenta highlights and a nose stud, lives in the apartment above Maggie’s shop. She’s Maggie’s indispensable helper (when she’s not in class)—and part of the new generation of young knitters.
Also in the Black Sheep Knitting Mystery series by Anne Canadeo
While My Pretty One Knits
Knit, Purl, Die
A Stitch Before Dying
GALLERY BOOKS
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2012 by Anne Canadeo
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information address Gallery Books Subsidiary Rights Department, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020.
First Gallery Books trade paperback edition March 2012
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Canadeo, Anne
Till death do us purl / Anne Canadeo.
p. cm.
“Gallery Original Fiction Trade.”
ISBN 978-1-4391-9140-8—ISBN 978-1-4391-9143-9 (ebook)
1. Knitters (Persons)—Fiction. I. Title.
PS3553.A489115T55 2012
813’.54—dc23
2011037008
ISBN 978-1-4391-9140-8
ISBN 978-1-4391-9143-9 (ebook)
To my daughter, Katherine, with all my love.
You are a wonder to me every day.
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Notes from the Black Sheep Knitting Shop Bulletin Board
Arugula with Tomatoes, White Beans, and Shrimp
A mouse does not rely on just one hole.
—T
ITUS
M
ACCIUS
P
LAUTUS
If love is the glue that holds the world together, guilt must be the staples.
—A
NONYMOUS
N
ow that you’re all here, I have a confession to make.” Maggie stood at the counter in the middle of the shop, sorting a pile of knitting needles by size order. She was carefully avoiding everyone’s gaze, Lucy noticed.
Lucy and her friends were settled in their usual places at the long oak table nearby. They could always be found together on Thursday night and, most often, in the rear room of the Black Sheep Knitting Shop. Now all four of them—Lucy, Suzanne, Dana, and Phoebe—hit the pause button on their needles and conversations.
Suzanne looked alarmed. “Please don’t tell us you didn’t make dinner. I’ve been running all day on an expired yogurt and half a chocolate doughnut.”
“I meant a small
confession. That would be a major one. There’s plenty to eat. I’ve invited Nora and Rebecca Bailey to join us. Nora called a little while ago to see if the shop was open late. She has a real emergency.”
One that somehow involved needles
and yarn, Lucy assumed. Maggie was the official EFT—emergency fiber technician—in town. She had even been known to make house calls.
“She sounded desperate, so I said they could just come over. I hope you don’t mind.” Maggie stored the needles and walked over to join them, though she didn’t sit down.
“Very compassionate to see a patient after hours.” Dana approved in teasing tone. With a PhD in psychology, Dana actually did hold the title of doctor, though she only used it for her practice. And when she wanted to pull social rank a bit.
Lucy had no objection, either. Nora Bailey and her daughter, Rebecca, were very familiar faces, always stopping by the shop to pick up yarn or take classes, or consult with Maggie about knitting issues. Nora and Maggie had grown up in Plum Harbor together and went way back.
“Rebecca’s getting married soon, right? Isn’t she knitting her own gown?” Lucy admired that kind of courage. The same way she admired people who went hang gliding or bungee jumping.
Not a project she’d ever attempt. Not that anyone was breaking a leg to propose to her. But that was another story.
“Yes, Rebecca’s knitting her gown and Nora is making shrugs for the bridesmaids and a flower girl.” Maggie had strolled over to the antique server and laid out some silverware next to a pile of linen napkins and a stack of plates.
“When I was about to get married, I was so insane, I couldn’t have knit a coaster,” Suzanne said, “no less an entire wedding dress.”
“Maybe it’s a distraction for her, a
way to displace her anxiety,” Dana offered. “Planning a wedding and launching off on a whole new stage in life just about tops the list of high-stress milestones.”
“A distraction is having your nails done. Or trying out hairdos that work with your veil. Not making the dress you are going to wear on the biggest day of your life—when you should be looking your absolute, red-carpet best.”
“Good point, Suzanne,” Maggie agreed. “Which is why you all might feel some sympathy when I tell you that Rebecca’s fiancé has suddenly announced they have to move up the wedding date. They were going to be married in May. But now the date is two weeks away.”
Dana had picked up her knitting again and examined her work. “Two weeks? Why is that?”
“I’m not sure. She didn’t have time to explain. Something to do with his work. The bottom line seems to be, if they don’t get married now, they’ll have to put the wedding off for months. Neither of them wants to do that. They even talked about running off to a justice of the peace. But Nora knows Rebecca would be very unhappy with that plan.”
“She’s probably crushed at having that long white runner yanked out from under her at the last minute like this,” Suzanne said, sympathizing. “She’s probably frantic.”
“Rebecca wasn’t thrilled. But she does seem . . . resigned. She’s a very levelheaded young woman.” High praise, coming from Maggie, Lucy knew. “Very centered and even-tempered,” Maggie continued. “She teaches grade school and is quite organized. But even with this major snag, she won’t give up on making the gown. She’s already put a lot
of time into it. It would be an awful shame to see all that beautiful work go to waste.”
“A terrible waste.” Dana looked at Maggie over the edge of her stylish reading glasses. “So let me guess, Nora and Rebecca need some help finishing all these projects in time for the accelerated wedding date and you volunteered us?”
Maggie was trying hard not to look guilty as charged. But Dana had her cornered. “I merely said that they could come here tonight and I’d advise on the gown . . . and they could ask you. I didn’t make any promises.
“But you had a pretty good feeling we’d agree, didn’t you?” Lucy prodded.
Maggie couldn’t help smiling for real now. “Does that mean you’ll do it?”
Lucy and her friends exchanged glances.
Before anyone answered, Maggie added, “I thought maybe you could each make a bridesmaid’s shrug. Phoebe could make one for the flower girl. It’s a very simple pattern. I’m going to work with Rebecca on the gown.”
It sounded as if Maggie had it all figured out and Lucy could see no reason to refuse. “Okay, I’m in. I’m sort of in the middle of three different projects, so what’s the difference if I start one more?”
“Same here,” Phoebe agreed. “Of course, I’d rather be making matching socks for the bridesmaids. That would look so cool. But I guess I can do a tragically ordinary shrug if that’s what Rebecca really wants.”
Matching socks on bridesmaids? That would be a first. Unique, whimsical socks
were Phoebe’s specialty. Lucy should have guessed Phoebe would factor them into wedding party accessories. She could hardly imagine the little Goth girl’s own nuptial. The concept was mind-boggling.
Phoebe had a steady boyfriend, but marriage seemed light-years away for her. She was slowly but surely finishing college and working part-time in Maggie’s shop. Her boyfriend, Josh, was working on becoming a rock star, which was a slow, and not-so-sure process. Especially when one considered his music.
“You can count me in, too,” Dana said. “I’m all for helping Nora and Rebecca navigate this trying time.”
Dana was a human knitting machine, once she got started. Lucy had no doubt Dana would be the first to finish any assignment and would probably help the rest of them catch up.
“Who could resist helping with a wedding? Just saying the word makes me feel all . . . smiley and mushy.” Suzanne pinned Maggie with a stare. “You knew that would get us, didn’t you?”
“I couldn’t say for sure. I will admit, I was hoping.” Before Maggie could confess any more of her manipulations—well intended as they were—the front door of the shop opened and Nora and Rebecca entered.
“Hello, ladies. We’re back here,” Maggie called out. “I’m just about to serve dinner. We’ve been waiting for you.”