Free Eggs Benedict Arnold by Laura Childs

yarn from Japan and done in subtle col ors of rust, orange, blue, and yellow. “ Did you knit this? ”
    Petra nodded.
    “ And it ’ s for sale? ” asked Suzanne.
    “ Oh sure, ” said Petra.
    “ Then put a red dot on it for me, will you? ” said Suzanne. “ Like those fancy art galleries do, to mark a piece sold. ”
    “ La-di-da, ” sang Toni. “ Suzanne ’ s been to an art gallery. ”
    “ It was more of a framing store, ” said Suzanne. “ Over in Cornucopia. ”
    Plopping down in one of their squishy chairs, Toni wig gled her butt and unfurled her latest issue of the National Inquisitor. Petra didn ’ t approve of Toni ’ s subscription to the Hollywood gossip rag, but it was one of Toni ’ s guilty little pleasures. Like Suzanne ’ s passion for chocolate. And fine Bordeaux wine. And Sarabeth ’ s peach preserves from Dean & DeLuca. And a few other things she couldn ’ t go into detail on.
    “ Lookie this, ” said Toni, holding up a page. “ Here ’ s a photo of Jessica Simpson wearing a checked shirt a lot like mine. ” She squinted at the grainy color photo. “ Except she ’ s got more in the cha-cha department. ”
    “ Give her another fifteen years, ” said Petra, “ then she ’ ll be well acquainted with the indisputable laws of gravity. ”
    Toni grabbed a copy of the Kindred Bugle, turned to the back page, and said, “ Time to check out the personals column. ”
    “ Pass, ” replied Suzanne.
    “ No, really, ” said Toni. “ There are some good guys here. Listen to this one. Outdoorsy guy ... ”
    “ That means he shoots baby animals and chews tobacco, ” said Suzanne.
    Toni snorted, but continued, ” ... who ’ s low-key but fun- loving and seeks a possible long-term relationship. ”
    “ Low-key probably means he ’ s a slug, ” pointed out Petra.
    “ And fun-loving is code for likes to get drunk, ” said Suzanne.
    “ What about the part where he ’ s seeking a long-term relationship? ” asked Toni.
    “ Just means he wants somebody to cook for him, do laundry, and sandblast the scum off his bathroom walls, ” laughed Suzanne.
    “ You guys are so cynical, ” said Toni. “ I think he sounds like a heck of a prospect. ”
    “ You mean better than Junior, ” said Petra.
    “ Anybody ’ s better than Junior, ” agreed Toni.
    Suzanne wandered over to Petra ’ s newly done display of knitting needles. “ Tell me about these bamboo needles. ”
    Petra ’ s face took on an almost beatific look. “ Oh, they ’ re simply wonderful ” she cooed. “ Bamboo knitting needles are exceedingly smooth and have a very soothing feel. The amazing thing is, the yarn won ’ t slip off, but it will slide exactly the way you want it to. And the bamboo makes a soft, clicking sound. It ’ s almost spiritual. Zenlike, ” she added.
    “ We could all use a little Zen in our lives. ” Suzanne sighed.
    “ Thinking about Saturday, ” said Toni, “ I ’ m wishing I knew a little bit about Zen. Or Yoga. To help me chill out. ”
    “ Gonna be crazy, ” agreed Suzanne.
    Toni put her feet up on a leather footstool. “ It ’ ll be a miracle if we get through it. ”
    Petra glanced up from arranging her yarns and smiled serenely. “ I don ’ t believe in miracles. These days I rely on them. ”
     
     
     
     
    Chapter eight
    The sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon when Suzanne stepped outside the back door of the Cackleberry Club. Everything, as far as she could see —fields, woods, faraway farmhouses—was bathed in a golden reddish light. It reminded her of a line from Shelley ’ s poem “ To a Skylark. ”
    In the golden light ’ ning of the sunken sun O ’ er which clouds are bright ’ ning, though dost float and run.
    The broad, leafy field of soybeans rippled like waves as the breeze washed across it. Across Suzanne ’ s field.
    She and Walter had bought the land adjacent to the Cack leberry Club some five years ago, as a kind of investment. Now