Knitting Bones by Monica Ferris Page A
Authors: Monica Ferris
somehow?”
“No, I’m sorry, she’s out of touch unless it’s a real emergency. Is this something that serious?”
“No, no. I wanted her to do some investigating for me.”
“Maybe she’ll finish up this week. I’ll have her call you when she gets back in town.”
“Okay. Thanks, Phyllis.” Betsy sighed deeply and hung up.
She was back to deciding whether to let Godwin continue sleuthing or pressing harder on Jill to help.
“N O,” said Jill, on the phone. “I told you, I have a full-time job taking care of Emma Beth. Maybe when she’s older, in first grade, say; then I’ll think about it.” Betsy could hear a smile in her voice as she continued, “Of course, by then I may have a little brother for Emma Beth.”
“Say, you aren’t—”
“No, I’m not—yet.”
Betsy groaned inwardly. Jill in a nesting mood was not at all what she wanted. She teased cruelly, “I hope it’s twins.”
“Then I’ll give one to you.”
“Triplets?”
“The other one to Goddy.”
Betsy laughed. “Can you imagine Godwin with a baby?”
“Now, don’t cast aspersions, he might make a very nice parent.”
“At the very least, his baby would be the best-dressed of the three.” Godwin’s sense of color and style were legendary.
“Seriously, Betsy, I’d like to help, but not by going out on a case. Maybe I can consult with Godwin, give him some hints about talking to people and how to judge whether they are holding back or lying.”
“That actually might be a great help. Thank you.”
G ODWIN was having a very interesting conversation with a young woman making her first quilt. “It’s not just my first, it’s my last,” Sharon was saying. “I had no idea how complicated it was when I started it, or how long it was going to take. I could have finished a Marilyn Leavitt Imblum pattern in the time it’s taken me just to accumulate the fabric and cut it.” She was a short, stocky woman in her middle thirties, with thick, light brown hair tied back loosely at the nape of her neck. She wore a pink cotton sweater of a complex pattern she had probably knit herself. “It’s not like I’m doing a fancy pattern, I’m just doing four-inch squares.”
Godwin nodded sympathetically. “I’ve avoided quilt shops,” he said. “The fabric is so gorgeous I’m sure I’d be tempted into quilting. Just the thing I need, another needlework project!” He looked around Crewel World, which didn’t sell beautifully patterned fabrics. “So how can we help you?”
“Well, my theme for this quilt is chickens.”
“…Chickens?”
“I know, it’s silly. But I must not be alone—there are dozens and dozens of fabrics with a chicken theme, especially if you include things like fried eggs and grilled chicken legs.” She laughed softly, a little embarrassed.
Godwin made a pained face, and Sharon said, “Pathetic, I know. But eggs and fried parts are the reason we have chickens, right? Anyway, I’ve got two counted patterns already finished—one’s a hen and the other’s a rooster—and I didn’t know what to do with them until I thought how cute they’d be in my quilt. But two’s either too many or not enough.”
Godwin smiled. “And you’ve decided they’re not enough.”
“Right.”
In a few minutes they had rounded up Jeanette Crews’s counted cross-stitch pattern Rooster Serenade, featuring two Mexican-style roosters—they’d finish at eight by eight inches, but that was fine; a booklet from Cross My Heart called Little Critters, which had a simple pattern of a rooster’s head in it that could be done on low-count fabric to make it four by four; a small square painted canvas of a baby chick labeled Share One’s Ideas; a punch needle called, simply, Rooster, designed by Rachel T. Pellman; a Cedar Hill sampler of a hen and chicks (“I’ll leave out the alphabet and some of the chicks,” said Sharon); a set of machine appliqué patterns from Debora Konchinsky featuring sixteen
“No, I’m sorry, she’s out of touch unless it’s a real emergency. Is this something that serious?”
“No, no. I wanted her to do some investigating for me.”
“Maybe she’ll finish up this week. I’ll have her call you when she gets back in town.”
“Okay. Thanks, Phyllis.” Betsy sighed deeply and hung up.
She was back to deciding whether to let Godwin continue sleuthing or pressing harder on Jill to help.
“N O,” said Jill, on the phone. “I told you, I have a full-time job taking care of Emma Beth. Maybe when she’s older, in first grade, say; then I’ll think about it.” Betsy could hear a smile in her voice as she continued, “Of course, by then I may have a little brother for Emma Beth.”
“Say, you aren’t—”
“No, I’m not—yet.”
Betsy groaned inwardly. Jill in a nesting mood was not at all what she wanted. She teased cruelly, “I hope it’s twins.”
“Then I’ll give one to you.”
“Triplets?”
“The other one to Goddy.”
Betsy laughed. “Can you imagine Godwin with a baby?”
“Now, don’t cast aspersions, he might make a very nice parent.”
“At the very least, his baby would be the best-dressed of the three.” Godwin’s sense of color and style were legendary.
“Seriously, Betsy, I’d like to help, but not by going out on a case. Maybe I can consult with Godwin, give him some hints about talking to people and how to judge whether they are holding back or lying.”
“That actually might be a great help. Thank you.”
G ODWIN was having a very interesting conversation with a young woman making her first quilt. “It’s not just my first, it’s my last,” Sharon was saying. “I had no idea how complicated it was when I started it, or how long it was going to take. I could have finished a Marilyn Leavitt Imblum pattern in the time it’s taken me just to accumulate the fabric and cut it.” She was a short, stocky woman in her middle thirties, with thick, light brown hair tied back loosely at the nape of her neck. She wore a pink cotton sweater of a complex pattern she had probably knit herself. “It’s not like I’m doing a fancy pattern, I’m just doing four-inch squares.”
Godwin nodded sympathetically. “I’ve avoided quilt shops,” he said. “The fabric is so gorgeous I’m sure I’d be tempted into quilting. Just the thing I need, another needlework project!” He looked around Crewel World, which didn’t sell beautifully patterned fabrics. “So how can we help you?”
“Well, my theme for this quilt is chickens.”
“…Chickens?”
“I know, it’s silly. But I must not be alone—there are dozens and dozens of fabrics with a chicken theme, especially if you include things like fried eggs and grilled chicken legs.” She laughed softly, a little embarrassed.
Godwin made a pained face, and Sharon said, “Pathetic, I know. But eggs and fried parts are the reason we have chickens, right? Anyway, I’ve got two counted patterns already finished—one’s a hen and the other’s a rooster—and I didn’t know what to do with them until I thought how cute they’d be in my quilt. But two’s either too many or not enough.”
Godwin smiled. “And you’ve decided they’re not enough.”
“Right.”
In a few minutes they had rounded up Jeanette Crews’s counted cross-stitch pattern Rooster Serenade, featuring two Mexican-style roosters—they’d finish at eight by eight inches, but that was fine; a booklet from Cross My Heart called Little Critters, which had a simple pattern of a rooster’s head in it that could be done on low-count fabric to make it four by four; a small square painted canvas of a baby chick labeled Share One’s Ideas; a punch needle called, simply, Rooster, designed by Rachel T. Pellman; a Cedar Hill sampler of a hen and chicks (“I’ll leave out the alphabet and some of the chicks,” said Sharon); a set of machine appliqué patterns from Debora Konchinsky featuring sixteen