Embroidered Truths Read Online Free Page B

too. Looks like we have a hit on our hands. You be sure and tell Ms. Maru, okay?”
    “Sure, I’d be glad—oh, wait a second. My laptop’s at John’s.”
    “Do you have her e-mail address? I can tell her.”
    “No, I put it into the laptop and threw away the paper she wrote it on.” He heaved a discouraged sigh.
    “Well, do you want to go down into the shop and pick out something else? Maybe some white cotton yarn to start a new pair of socks?”
    “Later, maybe.” He sighed again and curled up on the couch.
    “Tell me more about how you met this designer.” Betsy was still looking for clues that something happened in Mexico that precipitated this quarrel.
    “Well . . . okay. We were in the Polaco district, which is about the nicest—we had our private guide with us, he was a lot of fun—anyway, he took us to the Polaco District and turned us loose for a couple of hours. John bought dinner at the Konditori restaurant—would you believe it’s Swedish?—Scandinavian food with Mexican spices, strange and delicious! Afterwards we went for a walk and I saw this home decorator shop and went in because I saw it had needlework supplies. I wanted to see what they had, maybe something different from here at home. They didn’t, and they didn’t have anything like the variety of things we carry. It was worse even than Michael’s. But I met Maru in there, looking for floss in pastel colors for that pattern of a teddy bear.”
    “Where was John all this while?”
    “Looking at furniture. They had some nice armchairs with an interesting fabric on the seats. So Maru and I got to talking—she was so interested that I’m Vice President in Charge of Operations of Crewel World, Inc.! and she showed me another Aztec pattern she’s working on, kind of a weird-looking bird. She said it’s from a seal the Aztecs used.”
    “Where is she getting these designs?”
    “She’s taking classes at the Museum of Anthropology.”
    “Goddy, you don’t think John will do something like erase your hard drive, do you?”
    “No, I don’t think so. I mean, he saw how excited I was about meeting Maru and buying her designs, so he knows they’re important. He’s angry at me, not at the work I do. Now, if you don’t mind, I think I would like to go down to the shop for a ball of sock-weight yarn and a pair of knitting needles. If John does take it into his head to throw my clothes away, it behooves me to get started on a spare pair of socks.”
    Betsy frowned after him as he slouched out the door. There had been serious quarrels before between Godwin and John, and John had even expelled Godwin a time or two. But this felt different. She remembered her promise that all would be well, and hoped again that she would be able to keep it.

Three
    AT 6:40 the next morning, Betsy’s clock radio gently clicked on and began playing an old rock song, Sonny and Cher’s “I Got You Babe.” She woke feeling slightly panicky, because that was how the weatherman woke, over and over, in Groundhog Day. It was one of her favorite movies, and she and Godwin had ended up watching it last night while working on stitching projects.
    Once she realized she was not in Punxatawney, PA, but in her own bedroom, she smiled and nearly went back to sleep while indulging in amused recollections of scenes from the movie. But feline footfalls coming up the mattress roused her again. Sophie, Betsy’s cat, normally slept in her own basket in the living room, but last night she moved into Betsy’s room. Sophie knew and liked Godwin, but Godwin belonged down in the shop. Now he was up here and not just for a visit; he hadn’t gone home at bedtime. Like most cats, Sophie was deeply traditional and looked on any change in the routine with suspicion. She walked heavily up the bed to Betsy’s shoulder, gave her high-pitched cry, and looked toward the door, calling Betsy’s attention to the anomaly that was still going on this morning.
    Sophie was a very large cat,