Stitches by Kathy Weyer

Author:Kathy Weyer [Weyer, Kathy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: women's fiction, widow
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Published: 2014-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Four

“Lamb’s Wool is going to hell in a hand basket,” said Iris. She reached into her large carpetbag and pulled out circular needles with the two sleeves started. She had executed the points well, crisp and perfectly clean edges.

“What do you mean? Have you been there?” I confess for a fleeting second I felt a little betrayed. These women belonged in my posse. I adjusted the back of the dress on my lap, which was getting cumbersome and heavy. Between us, Lupe and I had almost completed it.

“Oh, yes, dear, we are scoping out all your competition.” Iris nodded to Helen. “We are doing some comparison shopping.”

“Right,” Helen said as she lowered herself with a grunt into the overstuffed, cushy chair. “First stop. Hit them all to suss out what they are doing.”

Iris smiled at me. “Lamb’s Wool brands are inferior, they charge twelve dollars to sit at a large wooden table with hardback chairs in a group, which I find to be a large pile of, um…”

“Bullshit,” Helen interjected.

“…nonsense,” Iris said, looking over at Helen. “They don’t even offer any help.” She sniffed. “I found them to be lacking.”

“No good,” Helen proclaimed.

“What’s no good?” Maggie breezed in, her perfect hair shiny and swinging as in a shampoo commercial. It irked me. Tricia came in three paces behind her.

“Lamb’s Wool yarns. Have you been there?”

“I try not to frequent those places. I get my canvas and tapestry yarn from England,” Maggie sniffed.

“Perfectly acceptable places here in this country.” Helen looked over her glasses. “You don’t have to import quality, you know. You can find it right here.”

“There’s nothing quite like the very best, is there?” Maggie shot back. “I find that if I am going to put my time and expertise into something, I don’t want to waste it on inferior product.”

“Quite right, Margaret,” said Iris. “That’s the discussion of the day, and, I believe, the reason Jennifer started this marvelous shop. Quality for the discriminating needleworker.”

Lupe walked in. “You may have just won the contest for the tag line,” she said.

“A contest?” Maggie looked around the room. “Surely you haven’t stooped that low?”

She looked directly at me.

I never knew how to answer Maggie’s barbs, and while I formulated a comeback, the most perfect of which I knew wouldn’t occur to me until two o’clock the next morning, Lupe jumped in.

“It was my idea to draw people to the website. I know it’s silly, but some people love to take part in these things, and it makes them feel as though they are part of history when the tag line is announced.”

“I don’t approve of drawing attention to yourself,” said Maggie.

This from the woman who appeared almost every week in the society columns and would run naked through the streets if it meant she could be featured in the New York Times.

“I would agree if we spoke of personal attention, but this is business, and any publicity is good publicity. Any way you can get the word out increases your market exposure.

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