Free A Dropped Stitches Christmas by Janet Tronstad Page A

Dealing with things straight on is who Becca is. I should have known she would be the most upset.
    Lizabett gave me a hug before I left The Pews yesterday and I know she doesn’t have any hard feelings. Lizabett knows how difficult it is to get things said sometimes. Even Marilee recovered from the surprise of what I told everyone and managed to look me in the eye before we left.
    But Becca was still just-under-the-surface angry. I know she didn’t want to make me feel bad, but she barely managed to say goodbye before she left to drive Joy down to the place Randy had found.
    Once Becca and Joy left The Pews yesterday, we all went home. I felt like I used to back in the days when I’d spend all day with doctors then come home tired. I crawled into bed early and I still felt weary when I got up this morning. Fortunately, I had my class so I made myself get dressed and leave the house.
    My class ends before Lizabett’s psychology class does so I take the bus down Colorado to wait at The Pews for her. It’s one of our days for eating lunch together. It’s nice to have these times to count on.
    Marilee is already at The Pews working on the diner’s books and ordering supplies for the week so she’ll probably come to our room at noon. Lizabett should be there by then as well. I doubt Becca will come. She usually has a meeting with the judge late mornings on Mondays and so she just takes a sandwich with her for lunch. Of course, now she probably wouldn’t come even if she didn’t have a meeting.
    I sit down in the room and close the French doors. Lizabett left some of the Mary books on the shelf we have and so I pull one off.
    I keep thinking about secrets as I leaf through the book. I can’t help but think about all the nights we met in this room behind these French doors. These doors have become symbolic to me in a way they wouldn’t be to any of the others. When I kept my secrets, it was like I was always behind another set of invisible French doors. I could see everything that was happening in the Sisterhood, but I didn’t feel like I was fully there when it happened.
    I wish I had done it differently.
    Secrets make a person cautious. That’s one of the reasons I hesitated about writing in the journal, which is still sitting on the shelf where I left it, by the way. When a person has secrets, they are always worried about saying something that would give it all away.
    This whole business about my uncle’s house didn’t seem like such a big secret initially. When the Sisterhood first met and we introduced ourselves, everyone told a little about their family and where they lived. I didn’t even know Becca, Lizabett and Marilee back then. I didn’t think there was any need for them to know the inside, messy business of my family. I only said I lived in San Marino with my parents. I never said we were rich or that my parents owned a house or anything.
    I should have told them how it was at some point though. I thought about it when Marilee’s parents separated. But when Marilee told us about her parents’ divorce, something concrete had happened. Her father had left the house. I didn’t have anything but my suspicions and my worries to go on. How could I take up Sisterhood time with my vague worries when Marilee was facing the real thing? If my uncle had actually told us to leave his house, then I am sure I would have said something.
    I hear a knock on the French doors and I look up to see Randy.
    “Want some company?” he asks as he opens the door.
    “Please.”
    “I didn’t mean to bring up the whole house thing yesterday,” Randy says as he stands inside the door. He’s got a white chef’s apron on with a Lakers T-shirt beneath it.
    He looks a little rumpled like he didn’t sleep well either and I like that.
    “It’s not your fault,” I say. “I should have told everyone a long time ago.”
    Randy walks over and sits down in a chair at the table. “I’m glad you told me.”
    “You’re a good