“You said I ought to wait for the owner to show up,” I said.
“Yes, dear, I did, but I thought you’d use some judgement and when they didn’t show up after a day or so—”
“Hey, Molly has been busy. Her parents are invading—I mean, coming to visit,” Dinah said. “Have you met her mother, Liza Aronson, formerly of the She La Las?”
“Your mother was in that group?” CeeCee said. “I just loved that song of theirs—‘My Man’ something.”
“ ‘My Man Dan,’ ” I said.
“It was their only hit, wasn’t it? It must be difficult to be a one-hit wonder.”
Before I could comment on being the daughter of a one-hit wonder, Adele stepped in.
“So, Pink, did you go to Yarnie’s or what?”
I saw Dinah curl her lip in annoyance. Best friend that she was, she was going to say something to Adele the way she had to CeeCee, but I was a big girl and could fight my own battles.
I quickly put up my hand to stop Adele. She had her mouth open, about to say more.
“Here’s the way it stands with the bag of stuff.” I turned toward CeeCee. “When nobody came by the next day, I realized I should try to locate the owner.” I glared at Adele. “And I went to the yarn store you said would recognize the thread, but it was closed for three days while the owner went to some yarn show. I am expecting it to reopen today.”
Ali Stewart was sitting next to Adele following the conversations as if it were a tennis match. Her head was swiveling back and forth so much I was sure she must be dizzy.
“Okay, what did I miss?” Ali said. Everyone started to tell her at once, but Dinah took charge and told her the chain of events that began with us finding the bag.
Adele had her chair right next to Ali’s, and I noticed they both were wearing pink tee shirts with a white thread crocheted embellishment around the neckline. Ali was a great addition to the group in many ways. She was an expert crocheter, she liked the idea of making things to give away, and she was always upbeat. The only problem was her sense of time. She always arrived late and left early. In fact, it often seemed she was just passing through the meetings.
Her hair looked as though some toddler had cut it with kid’s scissors. But that hacked-off effect seemed to be in style. I guessed the shoe polish black color was in, too. Somehow on her the style and color were fun and arty.
True to form, Ali checked her watch and got up, announcing she had to leave. “I have to help my mom with something.” She glanced around the group, making it clear she was speaking to all of us. “She runs a business out of the house. Don’t worry. I’ll have several blankets to bring in next time.” As Ali started to go, Adele appeared practically heartbroken.
“Well, dear, if you have to leave . . .” CeeCee said. “But we really like having you here.”
“I thought we would roll yarn together after the group.” Adele held up a hank of hot pink yarn that needed someone to hold it while she made it into a ball.
Ali apologized and left, and Eduardo took the yarn out of Adele’s hand and placed it over the end of the chair and started to wind the yarn into a ball.
“It’s not the same,” Adele said in a disappointed voice. “It’s a girlfriend kind of thing.”
I glanced toward Sheila to see how she’d reacted to the comment. Although she hadn’t said anything, she seemed uncomfortable with Ali. But then, Ali had displaced her as the youngest member in the group. The way CeeCee fussed over her didn’t help, either. Then there was the fact that Ali was always talking about her mother and father and how close they were. Sheila was alone in the world. The grandmother who’d raised her had died not too long ago and she had no other family. I sent a smile Sheila’s way to reassure her, but she’d already gone into stress mode and her stitches were turning into knots. Eduardo stopped winding Adele’s yarn and handed Sheila a smaller hook. He gave her a little pep talk, too, and she seemed to relax.
CeeCee glanced around the table and sighed with satisfaction. “I didn’t even realize until now who isn’t here. Camille didn’t come back,” she said.
“She hasn’t come back yet,” Adele said. CeeCee’s content expression vanished.
“Did she really have you give her crochet lessons?”
Adele nodded, looking very pleased with herself. “You made it sound like she had to be a superaccomplished hooker to join us. Well, thanks to me, she’s almost there. I discovered I’m a wonderful teacher. All she needs is one more lesson.”
“Dear, don’t say that. Didn’t you hear what I said about her being a spy?”
“No,” Adele said curtly. “I just heard you try to throw her to the knitters.” Everyone at the table cringed, knowing any second Adele would launch into her crochet-versus-knitting rant. We all basically agreed with her, but we didn’t make a federal case out of it.
Adele did about five minutes on the wonders of crochet and then sat down, and we resumed as if nothing had happened.
CeeCee took out a ball of bright yellow thread. “All this talking about filet crochet gave me an idea. Why don’t we make bookmarks for the upcoming library sales? It would give those of us who haven’t done filet work a chance to try it, and we could still keep up with the blankets.” CeeCee stopped and swallowed. “When I tell you all what happened with the blankets we made, you’ll realize how important they really are.
“I took the three blankets to the West Valley Police Station. A sergeant came out from the back to thank me and tell me about a call they’d had. There had been an awful situation where a man had killed his wife and one of the children had found her. The girl was seven and deeply traumatized. The officers who picked her up felt terrible for her and helpless to soothe her. But they had one of our blankets and wrapped it around her. Of course, it couldn’t make up for what she’d been through, but they said there was something in the way she hung onto it as she rocked back and forth that made it clear it gave her some kind of comfort. It gave the officer some comfort, too, because they didn’t feel so helpless.”
As CeeCee relayed the touching story, we all kept our eyes fixated on our crocheting, unable to look up. I saw Sheila wipe back a tear.
At the end of the meeting, I assured CeeCee I was well on the road to finding the owner of the items. I then turned to Dinah. “I’m going to see if that Yarnie’s place is open. I just want to find out who the bag belongs to and get it back to them. Want to come along?”
“I’ve always wanted to look in that store.” Dinah sighed in regret. “But I can’t go. I have a test to put together.”
I promised to keep her appraised of what was going on, and we parted company. On my way out of the store, I told Rayaad I was going to lunch. I certainly hoped Adele was right about finding the owner through the unusual thread. I wanted the whole thing off my plate.
I parked in front of Yarnie’s a few minutes later and went inside. It was a tiny store, three of its walls lined with yarn-filled shelves. In the middle of the store stood a small table surrounded by several chairs. Only one was filled: A woman who I figured was the owner sat taking skeins of yarn out of boxes and arranging them on the table.
“Are you the owner?” I asked.
She looked up and smiled. “My name is Dawn Yarnell, but everbody calls me Yarnie, hence the name of the store. Can I help you?”
I took out the filet piece and laid it on the table in front of her. “I’m looking for the person who made this, and a friend of mine thought you might be able to help.” I mentioned the group at the bookstore.
“You’re a Tarzana Hooker? Your leader comes in here a lot. Adele something. Quite an imaginative dresser, isn’t she?” Yarnie said.
I nodded in agreement as the store owner picked up the piece and examined it. She seemed to focus on the panel of the odd vertical rectangle with the window in the middle.