Murder of a Needled Knitter: A Scumble River Mystery by Denise Swanson

Author:Denise Swanson [Swanson, Denise]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Group US
Published: 2014-09-02T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 13

Buoyed Up

Within seconds of sitting down at the table, Skye realized that eating with her parents was an adventure in dining she would have been better off avoiding. They both sat in their places with dull, grouchy faces, and Skye didn’t appreciate having to put up with their discontent on her honeymoon.

Between May’s pickiness and Jed’s suspicion of anything that wasn’t steak or potatoes, the process of ordering their meals gave Skye a gigantic headache. The ordeal was embarrassing, especially with the Fraynes as witnesses, and she felt sorry for their waiter as he attempted to placate her folks.

May and Jed both turned up their noses at all three appetizers. Neither was willing to try the poached seafood and avocado, watermelon and feta cheese, or the creamed chicken, sweetbreads, and mushrooms in puff pastry. Skye actually agreed with them about the latter. She knew what sweetbreads were and wasn’t willing to put cow thymus glands into her mouth or her stomach. Sometimes you just had to draw the line, and her line was at animal organs—they weren’t called offal for nothing.

“Shrimp cocktail,” Jed stated with his usual minimal utterance.

“Very good, sir.” The waiter bowed slightly. “We have that available at all dinner services.” He turned to May. “And you, madame?”

“Shrimp look like the grubs that Jed kills in our yard,” May whined. “If that’s all you have, I guess I’ll just watch the rest of you eat your appetizers.”

The waiter’s schooled expression didn’t change, but Skye thought she saw the muscle under his eye twitch. Pitying the man, she said, “You could have pasta as your starter. They have fettuccini.”

“Why didn’t he say that?” May demanded, giving the waiter a dirty look.

“I am sorry, madame,” the waiter apologized, and pointed to the first page of the huge menu that May held in front of her. “Pasta is also available at all dinner services, as are these selections.”

After the salad, soup, and entrée had been negotiated, and the waiter took the rest of the table’s orders, May turned to Skye and commanded, “Show me where that awful purse-snatcher cut you.”

“Later.” Skye reached for a breadstick. “I’m not lifting my shirt and taking off the bandage in the middle of the dining room.”

“I thought you said it was only a scratch.” May’s voice rose an octave. “A scratch doesn’t require a Band-Aid.” She tugged her daughter’s arm. “If it’s that bad, you should have gone to the clinic.”

“No.” Skye shook off her mother’s hand. “I’m a grown woman and I can determine if I have a serious injury or not. I don’t need a doctor.”

“Fine.” May pouted. “But if you have an ugly scar, Wally’s the one who will suffer.”

“Seriously?” Skye’s face turned red and she was a hairsbreadth away from getting up and leaving.

“There isn’t anything that could make Skye less beautiful in my eyes,” Wally said, leaning toward Skye to give her a tender kiss. “Any man worth his salt feels that way about the woman he loves.” He

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