Embroidered Truths Read Online Free Page A

right. Okay. I get it now.”
    Mrs. Sowinski began to laugh. “You scared me for a minute there, Godwin,” she said. Turning to Betsy, she said, “Do you know where to look for the chart called Wild Wonders?”
    “Of course,” said Betsy. “It’s right over here.” She shook her head at Godwin, who was looking a trifle embarrassed at his outburst.
    Mrs. Sowinski bought the chart and half a yard of the eighteen-count aida, saying the part she didn’t use would go into her stash. She also bought a skein each of three shades of green floss because she wasn’t sure if she had enough of it at home.
    After Mrs. Sowinski left, Betsy said to Godwin, “You are the most amazing man!” and hugged him.
    He squirmed out of her embrace, saying, “Don’t make fun of me, I’m too fragile to handle that.”
    “Who’s making fun? I’m serious! You were in the middle of a real emotional storm when a customer walked in, and you pulled yourself together faster than . . . than a speeding bullet.” She smiled at herself for that limp simile, but Godwin simply bloomed.
    “Do you really think so? I thought I lost it again when I walked in back and everything was changed around. It was like my whole life, everything changed around, so I don’t know where I am. . . .” His courage began to falter again.
    “Here, now, buck up,” she said. “Everything is going to be all right. I promise. Okay?” She put it strongly, hoping it was true. “Now, how about some lunch? What would you like?”
    He thought for a few moments. “A great big sandwich, double beef on whole wheat with horseradish sauce and a thick slice of tomato. And potato chips. And a kosher dill pickle—not a spear, the whole thing. Large iced tea to drink.”
    When Betsy brought it back for him, he ate every crumb. He even put real sugar into his iced tea.
    In consequence, that evening he decided they needed to eat light. “Let me make something I had in Mexico City,” he said. He searched the refrigerator and cupboards and gave Betsy a short list. “Here, run to the grocery store and get these,” he ordered crisply. “By the time you get back the soup should be ready.”
    He prepared a simple soup of boiled chicken and rice, then served it with a plate on which were avocado, sweet onion, green chilies, cilantro, and tomato, chopped and heaped into little piles. He showed Betsy how to strew a little of each over the soup to flavor a few bites, then strew again, so the add-ons never sank into the soup but remained bright stars of flavor in the firmament of chicken and rice.
    “I had this for supper every night at the hotel,” said Godwin. “The city is over seven thousand feet in the air, and your metabolism changes at that altitude, so you have your main meal at noon and then a light supper at night. Otherwise you wake up at three A.M. sick as a dog.” He smiled. “A man on the plane told me that, and I told John, but he thought I was just trying to save money, and he ate a Big Mac—yes, you can buy them in Mexico City; in fact, there was a Mickey D’s in the mall attached to the back of our hotel—and fries, super-sized, the first evening we were there. And sure enough, he was up a couple of hours after we went to bed, groaning and complaining. He wanted lots of sympathy, which I gave him, along with a lecture on listening to me—sometimes I really do know what I’m talking about, you know.”
    After dinner, Betsy said, “Well, what do you want to do? Go to a movie? Watch TV? Maybe do a little stitching?”
    Godwin sighed. “I suppose I could work on a model of that symbol, the thing that means ‘speaking’ that I got from Maru.”
    “You mean the tlatolli?”
    He stared at her. “That sounds like what she said it’s called. But it’s not written on the chart, so how do you know that?”
    “Susan Lavery told me.”
    “Who’s she?”
    “A tall woman with the reddest hair you’ve ever seen. She bought the chart, and the teddy bears one,