Cutwork (33 page)

 
It was two weeks later. Shelly had come back to work after four days, saying she couldn’t stand just staying at home. She was in the back, unpacking a pair of Prairie Scholar’s Angels, models done for the shop to display. One was done in beads, and Betsy smiled to hear Shelly’s exclamations of delight and envy. This was the first sign of pleasure she’d gotten from Shelly since the day Ian had been arrested.

Betsy was talking to Pat Maze, who had come to town for a needlework convention and stayed to visit friends. She came into the shop to show her collection of little Christmas stockings. One had a top of twin hearts done in bargello stitch, waves of color shading from maroon to pale pink. The rest of the stocking had a diaper pattern of diagonal lines, the diamond shapes formed by the lines filled with alternating rows of the asterisk-like stitch called the fancy cross, and a capital I. “It’s called my heart’s in Indiana,” Pat was explaining. “But you can put an M for Minnesota.”

“I haven’t tried bargello stitch yet,” said Betsy.

“People are surprised how easy it is,” said Pat. “Look, I’m coming to Des Moines for CATS next year, and I’m teaching this pattern. Why don’t you take the class, and if you like it, you can teach it. That’s how easy it is. And of course, I hope you’ll carry my patterns in your shop.” She looked around. “It’s a nice place.”

“Thank you. I think I’ll do that. Could I buy some of your patterns right now? I’d like to see if there’s any interest.”

“Sure.” Pat sold Betsy two copies each of four patterns and left.

Shelly came out after Pat was gone and picked up one of the patterns. “Oh, I thought that was Pat! Isn’t she nice? I took one of her classes a couple of years ago. She’s a good teacher.” She put the pattern down. “Can I talk to you about something?”

“All right.”

But Shelly couldn’t look at Betsy and say anything, so she turned away and spoke to a turner rack of overdyed silks. “I’ve been getting letters from Ian.”

“Have you answered them?”

“No. But I want to. Am I being a fool? I really liked him—I more than liked him. He says what he did was wicked—and he means stealing the Osman sculptures. He says what happened in Mr. McFey’s booth that Sunday morning was an accident.” She turned around. “Could that be true?” The hope in her eyes was indecent, and Betsy looked away.

“I can’t answer that. I don’t know.”

“Oh, don’t be Minnesotan now! I need a rude, flat-out opinion!”

Betsy turned back. “All right. At best, Ian Masterson is a greedy, immature thief who lost his temper in a very big way. At worst, he is a man so hungry for fame he’ll steal to get it and murder to keep it. He saw those wonderful sculptures, and came to the same conclusion that Mickey Sinclair did about the money in the cash box: The rightful owner was dead, so whoever found it first could take it.”

“He isn’t like the Sinclair boy! How can you possibly say that?”

“He’s worse than the Sinclair boy—he killed a man and was willing to let someone else take the rap for it. You asked for a rude opinion, and that’s mine.”

She saw the shock in Shelly’s eyes and conceded, “Okay, in one regard he’s a better person than Mickey: He says he’s been living in hell and is ashamed of himself, which is more than Mickey will likely ever say. But that’s not enough, Shelly; he killed a man who was his friend.”

“He’s not asking me to forgive him,” said Shelly. “He just wants to know if he can keep writing to me.”

“And he hopes someday you’ll write him back, maybe come back under his spell. He doesn’t deserve it, but if you want to play ‘Stand by Your Man,’ that’s fine with me. In fact, if you do, you’ll be the best thing that ever happened to Mr. Masterson, I don’t care how rich or famous he was. Maybe prison will make him grow up—maybe it will coarsen him to where even you can’t stand him. Maybe your standing by him will help prison reform him. But he’s ruined as an artist, he’ll never come back from the scandal. And it bites me no end that it’s the theft of Osman’s work, not the murder of Rob McFey, that has destroyed his reputation. Oh, and be reminded: Standing by him may injure your reputation as well. But here’s something almost as important: Think what that child Skye, the daughter of his murder victim, will think of you for standing by Ian.”

Shelly paled. “That was . . . not unfair. Not unfair.” She pulled herself up to her full height. “Do you want me to quit my job here?”

Betsy blinked at her. “No, of course not. Why would I want you to quit?”

“You said . . . my reputation.”

Betsy smiled. “It’s your job as a school teacher I’m concerned about.”

“Oh. But you’ll let me keep on here?”

“Certainly. Think of my reputation. Maybe your standing by Ian will counterbalance my penchant for sending people to prison. Come on, Shelly, how could you think otherwise?”

“Because . . . well, because . . . My God, I hadn’t thought of Skye. She called yesterday and left a message. She wants to see me. What am I—”

“You’ll tell her to come over, of course.”

The door made its irritating
Bing!
announcement that a customer was coming in just as the phone rang. Betsy waved Shelly toward the door and picked up the phone. “Crewel World, Betsy speaking, how may I help you?”

Instructions for the Pattern
“CUTWORK”
Designed by Julie Norton and Denise Williams

 
Take this page to a copy shop, or scan it into your computer, and enlarge it to a suitable size. Tape the copy to a window and tape a piece of white cloth over the copy. Trace the pattern onto the cloth, using a soft pencil or some other marker that will wash out. If you will be using the cloth as a handkerchief or napkin, hem it. Using buttonhole stitch, stitch around all the edges of the leaves and flowers, paying particular attention to the outside edges and the lines surrounding spaces marked with a small x. Traditionally, cutwork is stitched with white thread on white fabric. Use small beads or French knots for the centers of the flowers. Cut out the segments marked with an x. The pattern may be cut out entirely and applied to a dress or blouse.