A Spool of Blue Thread

He sat back and stared at Stem.

 

Nora continued placidly spreading butter on her ear of corn. Stem said, “Nora is very accommodating. I’d like to know how many other women would be willing to pack up and leave their homes behind the way she has.”

 

“Oh,” Abby wailed, “but we didn’t ask her to do that! We wouldn’t ask it of any of you!”

 

Nora said, “Of course you wouldn’t, Mother Whitshank. We volunteered. We wanted to do it. Think of all Douglas owes you.”

 

“Owes?” Abby said. She looked stung.

 

All at once Red came alive at the head of the table and said, “What? What’s going on?” He glanced from face to face, but Abby made a dismissive downward gesture with one hand, so he didn’t pursue it.

 

On Wednesday, Denny got up at ten thirty, so maybe he was inching into a halfway normal schedule. He vacuumed all the bedrooms and folded a load of laundry that Nora had put in the dryer, completely mixing up which clothes belonged to which person. Then he replaced a button on one of Abby’s blouses, leaving a spill of spools and crochet hooks on the shelf in the linen closet where Abby kept her sewing box. After that he played Crazy Eights with the little boys. When Abby told him she was heading off for her pottery class, he offered to drive her, but she said she always hitched a ride with Ree Bascomb. “Suit yourself,” Denny said, “but I’m just sitting here twiddling my thumbs; you might as well make use of me.”

 

“You’re very useful, dear,” Abby said. “It’s just that Ree and I have been riding together forever. But I appreciate the thought.”

 

“Can I borrow your computer while you’re gone?” Denny asked.

 

“My computer,” Abby said. A panicked look crossed her face.

 

“I’d like to get online.”

 

“Well, you aren’t … you won’t read my e-mail or anything, will you?”

 

“No, Mom. Who do you take me for?”

 

She didn’t seem reassured.

 

“I just wanted to connect to the outside world, for once,” Denny said. “I’m kind of isolated here.”

 

“Oh, Denny, haven’t I been saying? You ought not to be here!”

 

“How welcoming,” Denny said.

 

“Oh, you know what I mean. I’m not an old lady, Denny. I don’t need to have my hand held. This is all so unnecessary!”

 

“Is that so,” Denny said.

 

And then, as if her words had jinxed things, that afternoon she had one of her blank spells.

 

She had promised to be back from her pottery class around four. They didn’t start worrying till five. Red and Stem were home by then, and Red was the one who said, “Don’t you figure your mom should be here now? I know she and Ree get to talking, but still!”

 

“Do you have Ree’s phone number?” Denny asked.

 

“It’s on the speed dial. Maybe one of you all could call. I’m not so good on the phone these days.”

 

All three men looked at Nora. “I’ll do it,” she said.

 

She went to the phone in the sunroom, and Red tagged after her. Stem and Denny stayed seated in the living room. “Hello? Mrs. Bascomb?” they heard her say. “This is Nora, Abby Whitshank’s daughter-in-law. Do you happen to have her there with you?”

 

There was a pause, and then she said, “I see. Well, thank you so much!… Yes, I’m sure she will. Goodbye.” The receiver clicked into its cradle. “They got back to Mrs. Bascomb’s an hour ago,” she said, “and Mother Whitshank set out for home straightaway.”

 

“Damn! Sorry,” Red said. “I’ve told her and told her, I said, ‘Make Ree take you all the way to our door.’ She knows she’s not supposed to walk home by herself. Shoot, I bet she walked over there, too.”

 

Stem and Denny exchanged glances. The distance was barely a block and a half; it was news to both of them that Abby couldn’t be trusted to manage it.

 

“Maybe she stopped by a friend’s house on the way back,” Nora said.

 

“Nora,” Red said. “People in this neighborhood do not stop by.”

 

“I didn’t know that,” Nora said.

 

They returned to the living room, and Denny stood up from his chair. “Okay,” he said. “Stem, you walk up Bouton toward Ree’s. I’ll head in the other direction in case she somehow bypassed the house.”

 

“I’m coming too,” Red said.

 

“Fine.”

 

The three of them left. Nora stepped onto the porch to watch after them, her arms folded across her chest.

 

Stem took off toward Ree Bascomb’s in his long, loping stride, while Red and Denny turned in the opposite direction. Red’s pace was more laborious. Always before, he’d been a man in a hurry; now he trudged. They hadn’t even reached the third house before they heard Stem call out, “Found her!” Or Denny heard. Red continued plodding on. Denny touched his sleeve. “He found her,” he said.

 

“Eh?” Red turned.

 

“Stem found her.”