Good Samaritan story for the millionth time as they picked up their tools.
'Pink, we don't need you here.' Adele glared, but I didn't move.
A thought crossed my mind as CeeCee began working her hook. She was a client of Pink Sheridan.
'This is a double whammy for you. You lost a group leader and a publicist,' I said, touching her arm.
CeeCee's bright expression dampened, and she put her head down. 'Yes, Ellen's been handling my publicity for years. I don't know what I'm going to do without her.'
Her hook stopped in midstitch for a moment, as she appearedto blink back a tear. Then she swallowed and resumed by taking some black yarn and joining it to her work. Her dexterity was amazing. In the blink of an eye she had made a border of black stitches around a square with a blue and green pattern. It seemed almost automatic. She did the last stitch and put the square on a pile of similar ones. All had black borders and the same pattern of stitches and open spaces.
Adele was working on some kind of a square, too. But hers was twice as large and also had a black border. The insidewas purple, and she was attaching a loopy pink flower. Funny how whoever you are shows up in everything you do. Adele's square was like her. She was wearing a flouncy full skirt with a pink, yellow and lavender design. On top, she had a hot pink camp shirt. Her voice had a look-at-me quality, too. It carried across the store even if there were all kinds of conversations going on. Of course, her voice was good for story time. Everybody could always hear her.
Sheila had a strip of royal blue stitches in one hand and a crochet hook in the other. She seemed to be struggling, and her knuckles were white. Whatever she was making, it didn't seem to be going well. Her face was squeezed in frustration as she tried to force the hook into the yarn.
'Dear, your stitches are too tight again,' CeeCee said in her musical, sugary voice. She shook her head and reached out to touch Sheila's work.
Sheila pulled it in close. 'I can do it myself.'
'I was just trying to help.' CeeCee looked from Sheila to me. 'Ellen used to take her work and help her straighten it out.'
'She didn't help me. She just did it for me. And I hated it,' Sheila said, cradling her work protectively. 'It made me even more nervous. She'd be hovering over me, saying I worked too slow, and then she'd just snatch it away.' Sheila's breath seemed uneven as she tried harder to force the hook into the line of stitches.
'What are you making?' I said, hoping to lighten her tension. I made sure to keep my distance so she wouldn't think I was going to make a grab for her work. The way she was holding that hook, even with its round ends, I had a feeling she might do some kind of damage if I did.
She looked up at me, her eyebrows squeezed together with worry, and held up a picture with a lot of directions under it. It showed a square with an intricate lacy pattern that to my noncrocheting eyes appeared impossible to make.
'Nice,' I said in my best calm voice. Sheila's face lit up with my tidbit of praise. Adele handed her a smaller hook and suggested she try it.
'Take some deep breaths, dear,' CeeCee said in an encouragingvoice. 'We can't afford to have you freak out now. We have a deadline.' She watched as Sheila easily poked it into the line of royal blue stitches.
'Now, make nice loose stitches.' CeeCee said it slowly and stretched the word
'Pink, it's under control. Why are you still here?' Adele snapped.
'It's my job to make sure things go smoothly, and now with Ellen . . .'
'You can't lead the group. You don't even know how to crochet.' There was definite triumph in Adele's voice.
'Actually, I should lead the group,' CeeCee said. She gestured toward the pile of black-edged multicolored squares on the table next to her. 'I do have a few more done than you.' She glanced at the two large squares with loopy flowers in the middle. 'And more experience. I learned how to crochet during all the waiting on my first show. You probably remember it--
Adele got a huffy look. 'I am the one who gave her the smaller hook so she could get out of the too-tight- stitch trap.'
Were they honestly arguing over who was going to be the leader of the three of them? Talk about all chiefs and no Indians.
Meanwhile, immune to their fighting over who helped her the most, Sheila had settled into a steady rhythm of looping the yarn around the hook and pulling it through. Even yarn-challenged I could tell she was making loose, even stitches.
CeeCee and Adele seemed to have come to some kind of truce. I suspected that each of them thought they had convinced the other they were in charge, and they had gone back to crocheting. CeeCee took some red yarn and made a little tail of stitches, then joined the ends, forming a circle. From there, she began making stitches around the circle. It was fascinating to watch the birth of a new square. She was like a machine and barely seemed to look at what she was doing.
'What's with all the squares?' I asked. All three of them turned toward me, apparently surprised that I was still there.
Adele rushed to speak first. 'I can't believe you don't know. Being that you're the event coordinator and community-relations person.' The edge in her voice grated on me. 'The whole point of the group is that we make things for charity.'
'Yes, dear,' CeeCee interrupted. 'Ellen came up with the idea of us making an afghan with all different squares. The only common thread is that they are all edged in black. She donated it in advance to a charity she has'--CeeCee stopped and swallowed--'had as a pro bono client. You've probably heard about it: Hearts and Barks.'
Of course I had, and I'd seen the signs for their upcomingfair being held on the back lot of Western Studios, over in the eastern part of the Valley.
Sheila took out a brochure that described the services Hearts and Barks offered.
'I had no idea,' I said after reading how Ruth Klinger had been faced with choosing between her meds and keepingher dog, Fluffy, until Hearts and Barks had come to her rescue. 'How wonderful that they not only helped with Fluffy's vet bills, but her day-to-day food as well.' There was a picture of Ruth hugging Fluffy. She looked so happy and relieved, I couldn't help but tear up.
'Even though it's called Hearts and Barks, they help cats, too,' CeeCee offered. 'They do a lot of wonderful things, like sponsoring spaying and neutering clinics.'
'They're going to sell our afghan at the silent auction,' Sheila added.
'Isn't that four weeks from Saturday?' I asked, looking at the paltry supply of finished pieces.
'It's actually three weeks,' Adele said.
CeeCee pulled out a sheet torn from a magazine that showed a large throw made out of what she called granny squares. She explained that theirs was going to be different.Instead of all the squares having the same pattern of stitches, they were making all different kinds of squares, and the result would look more like a crazy quilt. Since Adele's were clearly larger, I asked how they were going to fit in.
'They may be larger, but they're proportionate. My squares are going to make up the center.' Adele picked up her finished square, laid it in the center of the table and demonstrated how hers were going to be arranged with all the other smaller squares around them.
'Are you sure the three of you can manage all those squares in that amount of time?'
'Ellen made a lot . . . and there's four of us,' CeeCee said, gesturing toward a woman approaching the table. 'This is Meredith.'
I'd seen her across the store but never met her. I introducedmyself. She appeared to be in her late twenties
