Chapter 7
The first yellow blanket was ready in twelve days.
Mrs. Vance laid it across the dining table and checked it under the window light. Ruby ran her fingers along the soft edge.
“Will the lady like it?”
“She chose the color,” Mrs. Vance said. “I hope it feels right to her.”
Elaine came to collect it herself. I happened to be there because Ruby wanted help finishing her square. Mrs. Vance introduced us, then asked Elaine whether she wanted a quiet moment before leaving.
Elaine held the blanket against her cheek.
“My daughter was named June,” she told us. “She had a yellow cap.”
No one rushed to fill the silence. Mrs. Vance put a hand over Elaine’s for a moment. Then Elaine thanked her and took both blankets to her car.
After she left, Mrs. Vance went into the kitchen. I could hear her running water though there were no dishes to wash. Marcus came in from the porch and found her there.
“You all right, Mom?”
“Yes,” she said. “Some orders matter more than I can say.”
He stayed beside her until she was ready to return.
The investigation continued. Camille’s lawyer contacted Mrs. Vance about repayment. The proposed plan covered the knitting money and the value of the car, though the amount and schedule needed review. Mrs. Vance asked an independent lawyer to look at it with her.
Marcus offered to find one. She chose her own.
I admired that. She loved her son and accepted his rides, but she wanted someone whose job was to answer her questions without being part of the family.
One evening, Marcus stopped by my apartment with a box of groceries. He said his mother had sent them because she noticed I skipped lunch on delivery days.
“She has eyes everywhere,” I told him.
“She always did. I forgot.”
We sat at my kitchen table while Ruby worked on a school project in the next room.
“I kept thinking I was taking care of her because I paid bills,” Marcus said. “Camille said Mom didn’t want me bothering her. I liked believing that because work was busy.”
“You called.”
“I didn’t go over. I didn’t ask Mom directly.”
He looked at the box of groceries.
“I can’t make up fourteen months in a week.”
“No.”
“I can show up next week.”
“That, she’ll notice.”
Ruby came in holding a drawing of her family. She had added me, herself, and our neighbor Mrs. Green. In one corner she had drawn a little ball of red yarn.
“Mrs. Vance is teaching me,” she explained to Marcus.
“She taught me too,” he said. “I was worse at it.”
Ruby giggled.
When Marcus left, he took the grocery box back. I had told him we were fine, but I thanked Mrs. Vance by phone. She told me she had not sent groceries because she thought I needed charity. She had made too much soup and knew Ruby liked it.
“Then we’ll come eat some on Sunday,” I said.
“Good. Bring the red square.”
On Sunday, Mrs. Vance gave Ruby a needle and helped her close the last row. The square had uneven edges and a hole near the middle. Ruby held it up proudly.
“I made a blanket for my rabbit.”
“It’s the right size,” Mrs. Vance said.
Marcus arrived with fresh bread. He set it beside the soup and kissed his mother’s cheek. I saw how easily she leaned into him now. It had taken long talks and difficult questions to get there.
Camille did not come. Mrs. Vance had spoken to her by phone once. She told me only that Camille apologized and asked if they could start over.
“I told her we can talk,” Mrs. Vance said. “Starting over would mean forgetting. I need us to remember enough to be honest.”
A week later, her lawyer called with news. Camille had agreed to return the remaining proceeds from the car and follow a formal repayment schedule for the rest. The investigator was reviewing her admission and the records. Mrs. Vance listened, asked when she would receive copies, and wrote the answers in her notebook.
When she finished the call, she opened her knitting bag.
“Do you ever stop working?” I asked.
“When I want to,” she said.
She lifted a half-finished scarf. It was dark green, the color Marcus wore most often.
May you like
“Don’t tell him.”
I promised.
