“Stand what?”

“It’s so quiet and peaceful here. Doesn’t it drive you crazy?”

Margot laughed. “I don’t think it’s so peaceful. In fact, when things get too much for me, I take a week off up in the Boundary Waters. There’s peace and quiet for you. Of course, I used to travel all the time, with Aaron. Miami, Cancún, even London and Paris one glorious spring. I’ve always been glad to get back here, though.”

“I don’t understand how you can feel a need for someplace even quieter than this.”

“After a week or so you’ll see how busy I am and you’ll understand. There’s plenty to do, committees to work on, church business, and of course Crewel World. They tried to get me to run for city council once, but I managed to slip by them that time.” She paused to put a new strand of floss into her needle. Betsy noticed she could do it that tricky way involving the edge of her needle.

“That’s needlepoint, isn’t it, what you’re working on.”

“Yes, do you like it? I haven’t decided if it’s going to be a pillow or a wall hanging.”

“The colors don’t look as if they’d go very well in here.”

“It’s not for up here, it’s going to be a display item in the shop. I have four canvases by this artist and want to encourage my customers to buy them.”

“How much does one cost?”

“Three hundred and fifty dollars.”

“No, I mean unfinished. Like if I wanted to try one.”

“Three hundred and fifty dollars. Plus the yarn, plus finishing.” Margot glanced sideways at Betsy, a tiny smile on her face.

“That’s ridiculous!”

“No, it isn’t. Each canvas is hand-painted, and has to be done in a way so that the stitches that cover the painting will fit. It’s a difficult art, trust me. Tomorrow I’ll show you some of the really great work done by my customers on these canvases. Fancy stitches, beads, special flosses. Or maybe you’d prefer to take up counted cross-stitch.”

“I’m not as fond of needlework as I used to be.” A little silence fell. “I have a friend back in San Diego who does counted cross-stitch, but I don’t think my eyes could take the strain,” amended Betsy. Margot’s needle went down and through then up and through. “It’s beautiful stuff,” further amended Betsy after a while. “She did this angel all in blues and golds that just blew me away.” The silence fell again. “But she showed me the pattern and I knew right away that wasn’t something I could ever do, not with my eyes.” More silence. “I think I’m too tired to keep up my end of this conversation. I’m going to turn in.”

But just as Betsy was entering the little hall, Margot said, “Betsy?”

“Yes?”

“I can’t tell you how pleased I am that you called on me when you needed someone to take care of you for a while.”

“Thank, Margot. Good night.”