Part 33 (2/2)
Corinne looked up. ”Maybe a scarf for Oliver? Or a sweater?”
Dana stopped. ”A sweater.” She couldn't resist. A sweater would require several hundred dollars' worth of this yarn. But didn't an Hermes scarf deserve fine company? ”A sweater. Definitely.”
Corinne nodded toward the sleeping Lizzie. ”She's very pretty.” Her gaze rose. ”How's Ellie Jo?”
”Okay, I think.”
Corinne nodded. She lifted the sample swatch that Ellie Jo had made just days before. ”This is soothing. Traditional.”
”I bought some myself,” Dana said. She was thinking of making a felted tote.
”Of this? Really?”
”It's so beautiful. I couldn't resist.”
Corinne eyed the skein again. She held it in her palm, tested its loft with a squeeze, s.h.i.+fted it in and out of the sun. Buy it, Dana nearly said, then thought of the bounced check. She needed to ask about that, but something about Corinne discouraged it. A fragility?
Dana had never thought of Corinne as fragile. Fanciful, perhaps. But fragile?
She didn't particularly like Corinne. But Ellie Jo did. So she asked, ”Is everything okay with you?”
Corinne looked surprised. ”Definitely. Why do you ask?”
”You seem tired.” It wasn't tired, really. She looked tense. ”You haven't been around as much.”
”Oh, we've had glitches with the museum gala. The people who were supposed to be working on the ad book have one excuse after another for not coming to meetings, and the deadline is next week. I've had to spend extra time on that.”
”It'll get done.”
”I'm sure.” She put the yarn back in its bin. ”This'll have to wait. I'm too muddled to be sure this color is right. Besides, I won't have time to work anything up for a while. Please give Ellie Jo my best. If there's anything I can do, let me know.”
”I will.” Dana watched her leave. She was trying to put her finger on what it was that worried her about Corinne when Saundra Belisle approached-and Dana realized she was talking to Lizzie's great-great-aunt. That made Saundra not only a trusted friend, but, at this moment, the only relative Dana had here in the shop.
Dana didn't hesitate in handing her the child. Nor did she hesitate in giving Saundra a long hug. Saundra seemed to understand it. ”Your grandmother will be fine, Dana Jo,” she said softly. ”This is not her time to go. I feel it strongly. She'll be sitting on that stool again in no time.”
Dana drew back to see her face. ”Will she be able to function?”
”Maybe not as smoothly as before, but near to it.”
”Do I need to make changes in the house?”
”Not yet. Let's wait until we know more.”
Saundra was no seer. But Dana clung to her words. She saw to things at the shop, keeping her eye on the cradle. A little later, she nursed Lizzie, then sat beside Saundra to work on the Faroese shawl. She had finished the most laborious part, eight inches of intricate design that circled the wide bottom hem, but there were still decreases to make every other round, markers to move, and a difficult pattern to follow to maintain side selvages and the back gusset.
Saundra fingered the hem of the shawl. ”You do a beautiful job. This is a perfect wool.”
”It's part alpaca, part silk.”
”Alpaca for warmth, silk for strength and sheen-it takes the best from both. There's something to be said for blends, you know?”
Dana smiled and continued to knit. Was there an a.n.a.logy here? Did Saundra intend it? Of course she did.
An easy silence lay between them. It had always been this way with Saundra-this instant rapport. Dana wanted to question her about Hugh's grandfather. But she didn't. She prized the serenity of the moment too much to risk it.
Late in the afternoon, the door dinged. In the seconds following, a brief silence stole over the shop. Curious, Dana looked up. Hugh had come in, with Eaton close behind.
Saundra had risen. Dana realized that she wasn't looking at Hugh, but at his father. Stepping around Hugh, Eaton headed toward their corner, and the pulse of the shop resumed. The register spewed out a credit card slip; the winder cranked; needles began clicking again.
When Eaton reached them, he extended his hand to Saundra. ”I'm Eaton Clarke,” he said.
The formality was marginally absurd. But Eaton was Eaton. And what else should he do? Dana wondered.
Saundra's eyes were clear. ”Saundra Belisle,” she answered.
”Is Thomas your brother?”
”He was.”
”Did you know that Thomas had a relations.h.i.+p with my mother?”
”I did.”
”How?”
Saundra smiled. ”One-word answers won't do. Sit with me, please.” She returned to the sofa that she and Dana were sharing.
Dana hadn't moved. She wouldn't have chosen this time for Eaton to come. She wanted Saundra to herself a bit longer, wanted more time to gather her resolve before facing Ellie Jo again.
But she could only begin to imagine what Eaton was feeling. He sat bolt upright, crossing one leg over the other and straightening the crease of his pants in a gesture she had seen him make dozens of times.
”How did you know about their relations.h.i.+p?” he asked.
Saundra spoke softly, keeping Eaton's confidence. ”My brother was nearly twenty years older than me. I wors.h.i.+pped him. I used to follow him around. I was five when he started meeting with your mother.”
Eaton showed no emotion. ”Did you ever see them together?”
”Not in bed. But soon after. And once in the backyard. I was too young to understand what it meant when people took their clothing off. When I got older and did, I asked Thomas about it. He admitted to the affair. He was proud of himself. Thomas was incorrigible that way.”
”Did he know I was his son?”
”No. To hear Thomas tell it, your mother sweated it out that summer wondering whether her baby would look African American. To hear him tell it, there was a collective sigh when you were born looking like your mother. No, Thomas never knew you were his.”
”But you did.”
She smiled. ”Not until your granddaughter arrived. I always suspected it, so I kept my ear to the ground where you were concerned. You were a good man. I wanted to think you were his son. Then you had your boys, and Hugh looked just like you. When he became a lawyer, I wondered if he had inherited some of Thomas's interests. So I kept my ear to the ground about him, too.”
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