A Good Yarn Page 0,61

dozen or more times in that last year, but - as she'd just told Annie - she'd give anything she had now, or ever would, to have her mother back.

"Don't tell me what I feel," Annie shouted, twisting free of her grip.

Courtney no longer cared if Grams was listening to the conversation. She tried another way to reach Annie. "I used to pretend my mom was still alive."

"This is supposed to make me feel better?"

"No, it's a reality check."

"I can't deal with any more reality than I already am. I just want my life back the way it used to be, with my mom and dad and - " She bit her lower lip and her eyes filled with tears. "I've got to go." In a flash Annie was off the bed. She grabbed her purse. "Just don't do me any more favors, all right?"

"Whatever," Courtney muttered. She felt like a failure. It was a risk to contact Andrew that night, and Annie didn't seem to appreciate how difficult the decision had been. Her only reaction was embarrassment, and that had turned to anger at Courtney. If it hadn't been for her, Andrew would never have known she was at the rave. On the other hand, Annie could've been in serious trouble. Kids had died from ecstasy; Courtney had heard of cases in Chicago.

"Courtney," Grams shouted from the bottom of the stairs.

"Yes," she shouted back, lazily unfolding her legs and moving off the bed.

"Is everything all right up there? Your friend left in a mighty big rush."

"Everything's fine," Courtney assured her.

"It's good that you have a friend," Grams said smiling up at her. "I'm heading out to the Missionary Society Meeting. Do you want to tag along?"

"Would it be okay if I took my bike out instead?" She really didn't enjoy sorting and packing clothes to ship to China. Perhaps in a few years chatting with Grams's friends would be stimulating, but currently Courtney found it uninspiring. All they talked about were their aches and pains.

"Where are you going?" Grams asked.

After three years during which her father had given her practically free rein, being accountable to her grandmother was a drag. "I thought I'd stop off at the yarn store and deliver those patches you knit." That was a destination and a purpose Grams would approve of.

"Oh, sure, that'd be fine. Say hello to Lydia for me."

"Will do."

Grabbing her helmet and gloves, Courtney bounded down the stairs. The frustration she felt was nearly overwhelming. She'd tried to do the right thing for Annie and those insults were all the thanks she got. Biking might give her a chance to vent her annoyance.

It didn't help that Courtney saw she'd gained a pound when she stepped on the scale that morning. After a solid week of denial, she should've lost at least that much and instead she'd gained.

"What time will you be back?" Grams wanted to know as Courtney came through the kitchen on her way to the garage.

"Soon."

"You've got money with you?"

"Yeah." She didn't bother hanging around to listen to any other questions. She wanted to escape and longed to feel the wind on her face and the sun on her neck as she pumped those pedals. The hell with Annie. She'd tried to help, tried to talk to her; she'd told her more than she'd ever shared with anyone about her mother, but it'd been a waste of time.

Courtney was breathless when she reached Blossom Street. As she turned the corner, A Good Yarn came into view and so did the French cafe on the other side of the street. The front window had a display of pastries.

Slowing the bike, she coasted to a stop outside the yarn store. Forcing her eyes away from the bakery window, she glanced into the front window of the shop and noticed Whiskers curled up, fast asleep. Lydia was busy with a customer; Margaret was, too. Even if Courtney did go directly inside, neither would have time to talk to her. Her gaze eagerly returned to the bakery.

Just last week Bethanne had talked about the chocolate eclairs and how delicious they were. Lydia had taken up the subject, raving about the croissants, but those eclairs were her favorite, too, she'd said. She made it sound as if she ate them by the dozen. If so, she hadn't gained an ounce.

Courtney had practically starved to death all week and she'd gained weight. It was hard enough to stay on this P diet; not seeing results