Knit in Comfort by Isabel Sharpe Page A

to happen. Just the thought of it made Megan want to shoo them out into the yard like she did to her kids.
    Ella shrugged, giving that aloof stare she used to protect herself. “Nothing bad. You just don’t look like—”
    â€œHer dead grandmother told her to come.” Vera leaned her enormous bosom forward, speaking in a hushed voice. “In a dream.”
    â€œSally? Ella? Coffee?” Megan could hear desperation in her attempt to sound cheerful. She was not in the mood to listen to the weird story again. Nor was she anxious to watch Elizabeth attacked by Ella’s divorcée bitterness, though Elizabeth could probably hold her own.
    â€œCoffee’d be good, thanks.” Ella drew Deena’s chair out from the table and sank gracefully into it. “Your dead grandmother told you to come here?”
    â€œIn a dream.”
    â€œYeah, thanks, Jeffrey, I heard that part.”
    Jeffrey sent Ella a look of jelly-smeared disdain. “ What -ever.”
    â€œManners, Jeffrey.”
    â€œYes, Mom, okay, Mom.”
    â€œIt’s true.” Elizabeth turned her chair to face Ella. “In my dream she told me to go find comfort.”
    â€œAnd that made you think of this town…how?”
    â€œSigns.” Vera nodded somberly, another crumb clinging to the corner of her mouth. “A powerful array, all pointing here.”
    â€œReally.” Ella didn’t stop her critical study of Elizabeth. “So…what, you’ll stay until dead grannie tells you to go home?”
    A snort of laughter from Lolly, abruptly snuffed, otherwise awkward silence during which Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed, and Megan started to panic.
    â€œIgnore her, she thinks she’s being funny.” Sally gave Ella an exasperated look, which on her sweet face barely registered, then jumped to help Megan distribute mugs of coffee. “It’s real nice to have you here, Elizabeth. If you need anything, a tour or…well, anything, you let me know. Foster, my fiancé, owns the hardware store, so he can help if you need anything too.”
    â€œI thought his hardware was spoken for.”
    â€œElla…” Sally smacked her friend on the shoulder, blushing sunburn red. “You are terrible.”
    â€œGood morn—” Deena looked around at the crowd in startled horror. “Whoa. What’s going on?”
    â€œHi baby.” Megan blew a frazzled kiss to her middle daughter. “We’ll get some more chairs.”
    â€œI’ll eat under the table.”
    â€œNo you won’t, Jeffrey. Help me, would you, Lolly?” Megan started toward the family room, counting down to the inevitable. Three…two…one.
    â€œ Fine. ” Lolly said it in three syllables, fi-ee- nuh , and rolled her eyes.
    â€œI’ll help.” Elizabeth jumped to her feet.
    â€œNo, Lolly should—”
    â€œI don’t mind.”
    Megan gave in with a sigh. She wasn’t up to explaining how important it was that her daughter help. Not this morning. A we’ll-talk-about-this-later stare at Lolly would have to do. “All right. Thank you.”
    She led the way, aware of Elizabeth’s sweet floral scent behind her and how it made their family room seem dingy and stale. She opened a window, embarrassed by the smell, and headed for the folding chairs they kept stacked in the closet behind the stored winter coats.
    â€œI love your house, Megan.”
    Megan handed her a chair, not sure what that was about. The house was a house, not much charm or character. “I’m glad, thank you.”
    â€œIt has so much charm and character.”
    â€œReally?” She handed over another chair. “It’s just a house. An ordinary one at that.”
    â€œI know, but it has…warmth. And people in it who love each other.”
    Megan closed the door to the closet, flushed from burrowing through sleeves and hoods and zippers to get to the