Yarn to Go by Betty Hechtman Read Free Book Online

the restaurant, but even fairy-tale couples need some time apart.” She looked at the empty table. “Where is everybody else?”
    “The others didn’t exactly seem happy to be here,” I said. “What am I going to do if they all suddenly want a refund because Joan isn’t here?”
    “Don’t worry, they’ll come,” Kris said in her perky cheerleader voice. “And if the past is any example, you’ll see—I’ll win them over.”
    Bree arrived next. She sat down and laid her cell phone on the table. She took off the hooded gray sweatshirt with the school name on it. Underneath she had a navy blue long-sleeved T-shirt, a hot pink shirt that peeked below the hem and jeans. Olivia marched in and sat down with a thud. It was as if she wanted everyone to know she was there under protest. Melissa and Sissy were fussing as they arrived. Melissa was concerned that her daughter wasn’t warm enough in her rolled-up jeans and short-sleeved T-shirt. Sissy kept insisting she was fine even though I caught her shivering.
    Scott came in last, hung by the door and kept his eye on the window. What was he so afraid of? Or maybe the question was who?
    Kris welcomed the group again. Scott finally sat down, but at the far end away from all of us. Bree’s cell phone began to beep loudly, and she held her hand up apologetically.
    “My boys got some app on their game gadgets that turns them into walkie-talkies. I have to take this. It’ll just be a moment.” She headed outside and started pacing up and down in front of the window while she talked. Judging from her body language there was trouble at home. Maybe now the kids were claiming their father wanted to feed them kibble for dinner?
    Edie got up and went to stand at the head of the table with Kris. “You guys are going to be so happy with this workshop.” The repeat retreater pulled out her smartphone and flipped through a bunch of photos and then held it up. “This was the last retreat.” She walked around the room and showed each of us a number of photos. “Don’t they look like they’re having a good time?” she said, flipping through them again herself. “Oops, I didn’t mean to show these,” she said, gazing down. I strained to see what she was looking at. Even though it was an odd angle, the first photo was of a man in a baseball cap with the sunset behind him, and the next one was of Kevin St. John talking to Gwen Selwyn, the yarn store owner. Edie moved to the head of the table. “I’ve got to get some shots of this group.” She got us all to gather around the retreat leader and snapped several pictures.
    When Edie sat back down, she flipped through the photos on her phone again. She seemed to stop on one and stared at it for a long time. She looked up at Kris and started to say something but stopped herself, which I found amazing after her verbal Olympics.
    “Thanks for sharing the pictures,” Kris said, and Edie almost bowed. “I know if Joan were here, she’d tell us to get started.”
    Scott stood up. “Is anybody going to tell me what happened to Joan Stone? She’s the reason I’m here.” He pointed at Edie. “You sold me on this retreat. You said that Joan put on these amazing weekends.”
    Kris’s expression became somber. “I’m sorry. I thought Casey had told everyone. Joan was killed in a hit-and-run accident a few months ago.”
    My automatic response was to say that I didn’t buy that it was an accident and give the reasons. But I kept it to myself this time. It wasn’t their problem; it was mine.
    Bree returned appearing drained, her blond hair even frizzier from the dampness in the air. “You don’t really think my husband gave them beer and said they could stay up until midnight, do you? How am I going to get through this weekend?” she said, slumping into one of the chairs.
    “You could start by turning off your cell phone—and your mommy brain,” Edie said.
    Olivia seemed oblivious to all the fussing and was staring off in