The Sweetgum Ladies Knit for Love - By Beth Pattillo Page 0,65
to be imperfect, she’d made it easier to do things well. A paradox she hadn’t anticipated.
“I’ll leave you to it,” Jeff said, leaning over to give her a quick kiss. He reached down and picked up his briefcase. She hadn’t noticed it earlier.
“You’re headed out?”
“Court date in Columbia. I’m sorry. I thought I told you.”
“Will you be home late?” Now that she had a better understanding of his world, she could be more understanding about the hours he kept. Before, all she could see was that he seemed to be choosing work over family. Now she knew that in many ways, his time was not his own. He was at the mercy of clients, judges, court reporters, and just about everyone else with whom he came into contact.
“Don’t wait supper on me.”
“All right. We’ll see you when you get back.” Thank goodness for the invention of the Crock-Pot. “I’ll save you a plate.”
“I’ll have my cell phone, but I have to turn it off in the courtroom.”
“No problem.”
The morning hours passed with their usual speed. Merry finished the project Jeff had given her and helped Mitzi with some of her work. The phone rang more than usual, and she collected a dizzying array of pink message slips for Jeff. Clients called to be scheduled and rescheduled. The FedEx guy made his daily delivery, and Daniel Gonzalez, the postman, left her a large stack of mail to deal with. Most days she brought her own lunch and ate it at her desk while she sorted the mail or ordered office supplies online. She was trying to decide which catalogs to keep and which to pitch when the phone rang yet again.
“McGavin Law Office. How may I help you?”
“Merry?”
“Yes?” Something about the caller’s voice made her pulse beat more quickly.
“It’s Sandra, from the day care.”
“Is everything okay?”
There was a pause, and then Sandra spoke again. “I’m sorry to disturb you, but I think you’d better come to the church. There’s something wrong with Hunter.”
Eugenie was never one to shirk her duties, but that first Monday in December, she slipped away from the library midafternoon to dash to Kendall’s Department Store. She’d seen their ad in the Sunday Sweetgum Reporter, and the men’s cashmere sweaters featured caught her attention. A perfect Christmas present for Paul. She’d been wondering what to get him. At first she thought of knitting him a sweater, combining it with her project for the Knit Lit Society, but somehow time had gotten away from her. Plus, she doubted the seed stitch was quite right for a man’s sweater.
She entered Kendall’s through the elegantly etched glass door. In her forty years in Sweetgum, she didn’t think this particular store had ever changed. Dark wood, gleaming counter-tops, the marble floor polished until it glowed. Kendall’s was a throwback to an earlier era, before shopping malls and the Internet. At Kendall’s, you could still find attentive customer service, brass doorknobs, and beautiful gift-wrapping.
“Good morning, Eugenie.” Alfred Kendall, a striking man in his midfifties, was the third-generation owner of the department store. His smile was as warm as his greeting. Over the years, Alfred had helped her pick out a myriad of wedding gifts, baby layettes, and Christmas presents. “What may I help you with today?”
“Hello, Alfred. I wanted to look at the cashmere sweaters that were in your ad yesterday.”
Alfred nodded sagely. “For Rev. Carson? A good choice. We have several colors that would suit him well.”
He led her to the men’s department and personally assisted her with her choice. She finally settled on a medium shade of blue—cerulean, Alfred called it—as well as a cream-colored oxford shirt and a jauntily striped tie. Eugenie was afraid she might have gone overboard. She and Paul hadn’t set a budget for their first Christmas together, but she was still a working woman with her own income, and she couldn’t think of anything or anyone she’d rather spend her money on than her new husband.
“Will there be anything else?”
Eugenie paused. Her eyes flitted for the barest of moments past Alfred’s shoulder, beyond the edges of the men’s department and across the store to a section she seldom visited. Lingerie. Just the name brought a blush to her cheek. So tempting and so embarrassing. She couldn’t. Not after all these years of playing the town spinster. Alfred Kendall would probably have heart palpitations if she asked to look at the negligees.
“No, Alfred. I believe that’s everything for now.”