1
“Alice, look out!”
Annie Dawson grabbed her best friend’s arm and dragged her back just as A Stitch in Time’s front window shattered. Behind them, the women of the Hook and Needle Club shrieked and threw up their hands to shield their faces from flying glass.
An instant later, everything was still along Stony Point’s Main Street. Everyone could only stare, openmouthed, at the front of the neon-yellow Porsche convertible that was now jammed under two racks of crochet patterns and a pile of worsted weight yarn. After a frozen moment, the young driver scrambled out of the front seat and into the shop, hot-pink cellphone still in hand.
“Oh wow—oh wow.” The girl looked around at the wreckage, her blond ponytail bobbing behind her. “Oh wow—my mom’s gonna kill me!”
“Are you all right?” Annie asked her, and then she turned to the other women. “Is everybody all right?”
Behind the swell of chatter from the rest of ladies, Stella calmly finished counting stitches, put her knitting in her lap and pushed her reading glasses down so she could look at the girl over them. “Is that Amanda Culbertson?”
The girl’s eyes got even rounder than they had been. “Y-yes, Mrs. Brickson, it is. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened. I was just driving and all of a sudden—”
“You were just talking on that phone of yours and not paying attention.” Stella glanced at the telltale device and then back at the girl’s guilty face. “Or was it texting this time? I know your grandmother has talked to you about that more than once.”
“Oh please, Mrs. Brickson, please don’t tell her or my mom and dad that part. I know I’m not supposed to. I just looked away for a second, I promise.”
“You’re lucky you didn’t hurt yourself or someone else.” Annie’s green eyes flashed, and she could have shaken the girl, but instead she led her to one of the circle of overstuffed chairs that was set up for the needleworking club. “You’d better sit down for a minute and catch your breath before you call your parents.”
“What was that!”
Hearing Mary Beth Brock’s voice from the door that led to the basement, Annie glanced at Alice and then forced a note of cheerfulness into her own voice. “Nobody’s hurt. Don’t worry.”
“But A Stitch in Time now has a drive-through,” Alice MacFarlane called out, but her quip lightened the tension for only a moment.
When Mary Beth, the owner of A Stitch in Time, came into the front of her shop, the look on her face silenced everyone. Her shoulders drooped as she surveyed bolts of fabric, how-to books, and expertly stitched shop samples covered with glass fragments and smeared with grime from the still-running Porsche. Even her usually cheerful round face seemed to sag. The only sound she seemed to be able to manage was a bewildered little “oh.”
Annie went to her side, and Kate Stevens, Mary Beth’s shop assistant, hurried to her other side.
“Nobody’s hurt,” Kate assured her. “And I don’t think there’s too much damage. Besides the window of course. Some of our inventory …”
She trailed off, seeing Mary Beth wasn’t really hearing her.
Amanda ducked her blond head and hunched her slim, T-shirt-clad shoulders. Then she looked pleadingly up at Mary Beth. “I’m really sorry, Miss Brock. I didn’t mean to. I promise I’ll help clean everything up. And we have good insurance. I wasn’t, um …”
She, too, became silent. Mary Beth didn’t seem to notice. Practical Peggy Carson went out and turned off the humming Porsche.
Annie gave Mary Beth a sturdy hug. “We’ll get it all put right. You’ll see. I think it’s just broken glass, and I bet Peggy can get Wally over here in no time to board up that window until it can be replaced.”
“Sure I can,” Peggy said, her smile encouraging, as she returned the Porsche’s keys to its flustered driver. “In fact, I’ll call him right now. It’s such a nice spring day anyway. A little fresh air won’t hurt anything.”
Annie glanced again at Alice. This wasn’t at all like Mary Beth. She’d faced her share of hard times and unexpected difficulties, but she had always met them with resolute determination and practicality.
“Sure.” Mary Beth nodded. “Sure. You’re not hurt are you, Amanda?”
The girl shook her head and then made an attempt at a smile. “At least not till Mom hears about this.”
Again Mary Beth nodded blankly. Then she slumped down into a chair and burst into tears.
****
“I think Mary Beth is in trouble,” said Kate when the five friends sat down at the Formica-topped table at The Cup & Saucer. Annie looked first at Alice, who was sitting beside her, and then she looked back across the table at Kate.