The Sweetgum Knit Lit Society (24 page)

By the time Frank awoke, Esther had set the hospital room to rights. She’d introduced herself to the nurse on duty, organized Frank’s toiletries, and read the morning paper. So she was more than prepared when her husband finally opened his eyes.

“What are you doing here?”

Esther smiled. True, his words hurt, but she refused to let him see how his question pained her. “I’m here to take care of you, obviously.”

“Where’s Ruthie?”

“She’s gone, Frank.”

“Where?”

“Home. To Sweetgum.”

If possible he suddenly looked paler against the snowy sheets. “What about the divorce?”

“Divorce?” Esther looked at Frank and frowned. He didn’t understand. “I’ve changed my mind.”

His face turned purple then, but now the harsh color didn’t frighten Esther. It was an indication of his emotional state, not his physical one. She had known he would be angry, had prepared for how she would handle it, so she kept moving around the room, straightening a bouquet on the windowsill, throwing away the straw wrappers that had accumulated on the bedside tray.

“You tricked me.”

“Yes.”

The fight went out of him then. He closed his eyes for a long moment. “God, you’re good.”

The contempt in his voice almost cracked her resolve. She dug her nails into her palm to keep from showing any emotion. “It’s not a matter of being good, Frank. It’s a matter of doing what’s right.”

“What’s right for whom?” he barked. “For me? For your sister? Or for you?”

Something inside Esther snapped. “Ruthie can play the pure in heart all she wants, but she’s the one who chose to go to Africa rather than stay home and marry you. I’m not the villainess of this piece. You didn’t wait twenty-four hours after she left before you asked me out. And I agreed to the date because I’m not a fool like my sister. I know to grab on to a good thing when it comes along.” She stopped, took a deep breath, and looked him in the eye. “I wasn’t looking to ensnare you, Frank, but you made it pretty clear that you wanted me.” She paused. “You made that more than clear.”

“I was just a kid. I was angry with Ruthie. I didn’t know what I wanted.”

“And now you do?” Esther laughed. “Please. You’ve always prized your own comfort above everything. And in all these years, I’ve never given you anything to complain about. I’ve been a good wife. And now that your heart is healed, we
can continue to be just as successful as we’ve always been.”

She saw the mist in his eyes but hardened her heart against it. Men like Frank were made to be managed. Otherwise they were lost little boys. If he and Ruthie had truly wanted to be together, they’d have found a way long ago. Esther refused to have her life ruined because other people didn’t have the courage she possessed or her determination to do the right thing.

“Now, here’s the lunch and dinner menu.” She picked up the pencil lying next to the piece of paper. “What would you rather have? Grilled chicken or a turkey sandwich?”

He took his time answering, which made Esther a little nervous. But at length he mumbled, “Turkey sandwich.” Then he closed his eyes, sighed, and went back to sleep.

And that moment of capitulation was the moment Esther knew she didn’t have to worry ever again about her sister stealing her husband.

The January meeting of the Sweetgum Knit Lit Society began on a slightly more congenial note than the previous month’s gathering. This lighter atmosphere was due in large part, Eugenie thought, to Frank’s successful surgery and even more remarkable recovery. Esther was practically glowing, and Ruthie looked pleased, if a bit weary, at the mention of her brother-in-law’s improved health.

“Yes, we’re all relieved and glad to have him back home,” Ruthie said. “Something went wrong with my felting though, Eugenie.” She spread the bag she’d made out on the table between them. “It shrank in height, but not in width. I’ve never had that happen before.”

Eugenie peered at Ruthie more closely, surprised at how quickly she changed the subject from her brother-in-law’s health. And Ruthie’s comment meant that they ended up
sharing their projects before discussing the book. For once, Eugenie decided to go with the flow.

“Hannah’s came out very well,” Camille said. She nodded to the teenager to pass the hot pink bag around. “If you wanted, you might sew some different colored buttons on it. Or maybe decorate it with glitter.”

Hannah sat quietly, but she looked pleased as her bag was handed around and admired. Eugenie watched the two of them, Camille and Hannah, exchange a smile of satisfaction. Hmm. She’d been wondering what the next step was for the teenager. The girl had been showing up at the library faithfully for almost four months now, and Eugenie was running out of tasks for her to perform. But she needed to be kept occupied. No reason for her to go home after school every day to sit in an empty trailer. Eugenie had, for a brief moment, considered taking Hannah in. She had dismissed the thought as quickly as it came. A teenage girl needed a family, not an aging spinster who hadn’t lived with another human being for the last forty years. She’d never considered taking in any of her previous strays. It was better not to start now.

Eugenie’s and Ruthie’s felted bags were sturdy and functional, despite Ruthie’s difficulties with the felting process. Merry’s bag was a misty green. Camille’s bag was turquoise and tangerine wool in a randomly striped pattern. Esther’s was a dark gold and looked more like a chic tote bag than something suited for a goatherd.

“You all did very well,” Eugenie said. “Now, what did you
think of
Heidi
?” As much as she valued her knitting, she loved books even more, and the discussion was always her favorite part of the meeting.

“It wasn’t at all as I remembered it,” Ruthie said.

“How so?” Eugenie asked.

“I guess I’ve seen the movie so many times that I’d forgotten what was in the book. All of that information about the grandfather and his tortured past. A great deal of it was his own fault, but still. You certainly have more empathy for him when you know why he has retreated to a hermit’s life on the mountain.”

“It’s natural though, isn’t it, to turn away from the world when you’ve been hurt?” Esther said, her glow dissipating somewhat. “Some people aren’t equipped to deal with the imperfections of life.”

Eugenie bristled. She doubted Esther knew very much at all about the imperfections of life. And she certainly wasn’t having them thrown at her on a regular basis, as Eugenie was every time she saw Paul Carson.

“What would you say was the book’s theme?” Eugenie knew this question always prompted good discussion. Plus it had the added benefit of changing the subject. “Home?” Merry suggested. “Maybe family?”

“What’s that old saying?” Ruthie said. “That home is where they have to take you in?” She smiled wryly. “Although I don’t guess that’s always true.”

“Home isn’t a place.” Camille looked at all of them with
a strange light in her eyes. Her animation troubled Eugenie. Something was going on with that girl, something she hadn’t told anyone in the group. “Home is the people, not the house.” Of course Camille would understand that important distinction, given her mother’s condition.

“Maybe the book is about being needed,” Hannah said quietly. Her words surprised Eugenie, but she nodded in understanding.

“Can you say a little bit more about that?”

“Heidi was just a little kid, and she needed somebody to take care of her, but the grandfather—well, he needed her too. He needed someone to love him again after all that bad stuff he’d done.”

A long moment of silence hung suspended over the group, like a raindrop on the edge of a leaf. No one seemed to want to break the stillness in the wake of Hannah’s observation. Finally, Eugenie said, “I’d never thought of it that way before. I guess the grandfather did need Heidi.”

“She brought him back to life,” Camille said, her expression less guarded and now looking more earnest. “He was grouchy enough about it, but she made him care again.”

“So what you’re saying is that home isn’t where you’re loved. It’s where you’re needed?” Eugenie wasn’t sure she agreed, but she threw the question out there to see what the others would say.

“It’s both.” Merry spoke emphatically. “You have to be
loved and needed, or there’s no point.” She shifted in her chair. “Although I guess it’s always a continuum. Sometimes the folks around you swing more one way than the other.”

“The problem comes when the pendulum’s always stuck on one side,” Ruthie added. “It should even out over time. Love and need have to strike a balance in the long run.”

Eugenie looked at Esther, who was sitting still with her arms crossed over her chest. Yes, the glow was definitely gone. “I think this book is about the sister sloughing off her responsibilities on the grandfather. She was young and able. She could have married someone from the village and provided Heidi with a home.”

“But then the grandfather never would have been redeemed,” Ruthie snapped. The air between the two of them fairly crackled with tension now.
Oh dear
, Eugenie thought. What a sad lot they were. She with her discomfort over Paul’s presence in Sweetgum, Merry pregnant when she obviously didn’t want to be, Camille troubled over her mother, if not something else, and Ruthie and Esther clearly engaged in some sort of sisterly spat. At the moment, Hannah seemed to be in the best shape of any of them. A sad commentary on the current condition of the Sweetgum Knit Lit Society.

“So the theme is redemption?” Eugenie intervened before the sisters’ disagreement could devolve into a full-fledged tussle.

“I think so.” Ruthie shot her sister a glance that Eugenie couldn’t interpret. “But then I actually read the book.”

Esther snapped her mouth closed and sniffed.

“Wouldn’t you like to visit Switzerland?” Merry interjected with false brightness. “I’ve always wanted to climb the Alps, maybe with a pack of goats at my heels.” She patted the felted bag on the table in front of her. “And now I have my lunch bag, so I’m ready to go.” Ever the peacemaker, Merry smoothed the rough edges off the group with her smile.

“And I’ve always wanted to toast cheese over an open fire,” Ruthie said, picking up on Merry’s example and evidently willing to avoid further conflict with her sister.
Perhaps Frank’s surgery took more of a toll on Esther and Ruthie than any of us know
, Eugenie thought.

“I’d go to Paris first,” Camille said with a dreamy expression on her face. “The shopping would be amazing.” Eugenie was reminded once again just how many dreams Camille had set aside to care for her mother. Because of Camille’s history, folks in Sweetgum sometimes still thought of her as a pampered princess, but that was no longer true. In a small town, though, perceptions took a long time to change. Almost as long, Eugenie thought, as they sometimes took to build.

Eugenie lingered at the end of the meeting so she could catch Camille on the way out. Not just because she didn’t want to risk running into Paul alone again, but because a plan had been brewing in her mind since the beginning of the evening. Camille and Hannah appeared to get along very well. Perhaps Camille was the next logical step in Hannah’s journey.

“I know you need to get home to your mother, but could I speak to you for just a moment?” Eugenie asked as they walked down the stairs.

Camille looked up, surprised. “Um, sure.”

“It’s about Hannah. I wanted to say thank you for helping her with the bag. The two of you seem to have really hit it off.”

Camille shrugged. “We did fine, but I don’t know if I’d say we ‘hit it off.’ ”

“Well, I was wondering …” Eugenie found herself at a loss for words. She prided herself in speaking straightforwardly and without hesitation. But a sudden tightness gripped her chest. She’d grown used to having Hannah around the library, sullen expression and all. But she wasn’t always that way, Eugenie admitted. And something about the sight of the girl when she would forget to dust and would plop down on the floor between the stacks with her nose in a book, something about that sight, touched Eugenie in a way that nothing had in a very long time.

“I’ve run out of things for her to do at the library,” Eugenie said. She and Camille had reached the bottom of the stairs and exited the church building. “She needs a new challenge.

I’d like to continue to keep her occupied with positive activities.” Eugenie had heard through the Sweetgum grapevine about the middle school kids who were now hanging out in the cemetery. Hannah had occasionally been seen among them according to Eugenie’s sources. “Why don’t you ask
Hannah to come in and work for you in the dress shop after school?” Eugenie asked. “I’m sure she could be a great help.”

“I couldn’t. She’s too young.” Camille’s frown showed that she was clearly not taken with the idea. “There’s no way I could pay her anything, even under the table,” she admitted. “Things are pretty tight.”

“Why not let her work for some clothing,” Eugenie suggested. “Heaven knows she needs it, and then there would be no question of payroll. She’d simply be helping out in exchange for a few pairs of jeans and some shirts.”