A Spool of Blue Thread

Ree sat down at the table and said, “Cheers, everybody,” and picked up her fork. “They say sweets are helpful in times of sadness,” she said. “I’ve always found that to be true.”

 

 

“Well, this was nice of you, Ree,” Red said.

 

“I could use some sweets myself tonight. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but on top of everything else now, Jeeter’s died.”

 

“Oh, what a pity,” Nora said. Jeeter was Ree’s tabby cat, going on twenty years old. Everyone in the neighborhood knew him.

 

Red said, “My God!” He set his fork down. “How in the world did that happen?” he asked.

 

“I just stepped out on the back stoop this morning and there he was, lying on the welcome mat. I hope he hadn’t been waiting there all night, poor thing.”

 

“My Lord! That’s awful! But surely they’re going to investigate the cause of death,” Red said. He looked shattered. “These things don’t just come about for no reason.”

 

“They do if you’re old, Red.”

 

“Old! He wasn’t even in nursery school yet!”

 

“What?” Ree said.

 

Everyone stared at him.

 

“I remember when he was born! It wasn’t but two or three years ago!”

 

“What are you talking about?” Ree asked.

 

“Why, I’m … Didn’t you say Peter died? Your grandson?”

 

“Jeeter, I said,” Ree told him, raising her voice. “Jeeter, my cat. Good gracious!”

 

“Oh,” Red said. “Excuse me. My mistake.”

 

“I did wonder why you’d turned into such a cat person, all at once.”

 

“Ha! Yes,” he said, “and I wondered how you could act so offhand about your only grandchild passing.” He gave an embarrassed chuckle and picked up his fork again. Then he peered across the table at Nora. She had her napkin pressed to her mouth, and her shoulders were heaving and she was making a slight squeaking sound. It seemed at first she might be choking, till it emerged that the tears streaming down her face were tears of laughter. Stem said, “Hon?” and the others stared at her. None of them had ever seen Nora get the giggles before.

 

“Sorry,” she said when she could speak, but then she clapped her napkin to her mouth again. “I’m sorry!” she said between gasps.

 

“Glad to know you find me so amusing,” Red said stiffly.

 

“I apologize, Father Whitshank.”

 

She lowered the napkin and sat up straighter. Her face was flushed and her cheeks were wet. “I think it must be stress,” she said.

 

“Of course it is,” Ree told her. “You’ve all been through a world of stress! I should have thought before I came traipsing over here with my piddly little news.”

 

“No, really, I—”

 

“Funny, I never noticed before how the two names rhymed,” Ree said thoughtfully. “Peter, Jeeter.”

 

Red said, “You were nice to come, Ree, and the crumble’s delicious, honest.” He didn’t seem to realize that he hadn’t taken a bite of it yet.

 

“I used Granny Smith apples,” Ree told him. “All the other kinds fall apart, I find.”

 

“These are not falling apart in the least.”

 

“Yes, they’re great,” Denny said, and Stem chimed in with a not-quite-intelligible murmur. His eyes were still on Nora, although she seemed to have composed herself.

 

“Well!” Ree said. “Now that we’ve got the fun and games out of the way, let’s talk about you all. What are your plans, everybody? Stem? Denny? Will you be staying on with your dad?”

 

It could have been an awkward moment—people were bracing for it around the table, clearly—except that Red said, “Nah, they’ll be moving out shortly. I’m going to get myself an apartment.”

 

“An apartment!” Ree said.

 

The others grew very still.

 

“Well, the kids have their regular lives, after all,” Red said. “And there’s no point in me rattling around alone here. I’m thinking I could just rent something, one of those streamlined efficiencies that wouldn’t need any upkeep. It could have an elevator, even, in case I get old and doddery.” He gave one of his chuckles, as if to imply how unlikely that was.

 

“Oh, Red, that’s so adventurous of you! And I know just the place, too. Remember Sissy Bailey? She’s moved into this new building in Charles Village, and she loves it. You remember she had that big house on St. John’s, but now, she says, she doesn’t have to give a thought to mowing the lawn, shoveling the snow, putting up the storm windows …”

 

“The boys were putting up our storm windows just this afternoon,” Red said. “Do you know how many times I’ve been through that, in my life? Put them up in the fall, take them down in the spring. Put them up, take them down. Put them up, take them down. Is there no end? you have to ask.”

 

“Very, very sensible to ditch all that,” Ree said. She sent a bright look around the table. “Don’t you all agree?”

 

After a brief hesitation, Denny and Stem and Nora nodded. None of them wore any expression whatsoever.