Free A Thread So Thin by Marie Bostwick Page B

Arnie practically dove under the sofa cushions hunting for the remote so he could change the channel. He’s obviously terrified of commitment.” Margot shook her head regretfully.
    “Maybe he just needs a little more time,” I said.
    “Maybe. But forty is getting closer and closer in my rearview mirror. More time is something I don’t have a lot more of.”
    “Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” Abigail scoffed. “You’ve got plenty of time. I didn’t marry Franklin until I was almost sixty-five.”
    “But you said yourself that you wished you’d done it sooner. What if Arnie never proposes? I don’t dare bring up the subject. It might send him running for the door. But how long am I supposed to sit around and wait?” Margot swallowed hard, the way she did when she was trying to keep her emotions in check.
    Liza wisely steered the conversation in a different direction. She carried the wine bottle around the room, making sure that everyone’s glass was topped off.
    “So, here’s where we stand. On the question of marriage, we’ve got two votes for and one against. But let’s face it,” she said, tilting her head toward the others, “these three aren’t exactly in a position to give a valid opinion. Guess it’s up to you, Evelyn. After all, you’re the only one in this room who’s ever had any real experience with this. You were married for…how long was it?”
    “Twenty-four years. By the time the divorce came through, it was almost twenty-five.”
    Liza shook her head as she topped off my glass. “Wow,” she deadpanned. “That’s longer than I’ve been alive!”
    “Yeah, yeah,” I said. “Don’t rub it in.”
    “No, I mean, that’s just a really long time. And then it was over.” She moved her head slowly from side to side, as if she couldn’t believe that so long a union had broken apart. Well, that was a fair enough response. At the time, I hadn’t been able to believe it, either. “So, was it worth it? If you had it to do all over again, would you?”
    It was a good question, one I’d pondered myself from time to time. And over time, my answer had changed.
    “Right after Rob left, I’d have said no. But now…” I paused to take a sip from my wineglass and give myself time to think.
    “Garrett was a product of our marriage. There is nothing on earth, not even the quilt shop, that I value more than my son, or that has brought as much joy and meaning into my life. If I’d never married Rob, then I wouldn’t have had Garrett.”
    “But if you’d wanted, you could have had a son without being married,” Liza said. “Lots of women do now.”
    Margot, who was ripping apart the seams of a star block whose points hadn’t met tightly enough to satisfy her, looked up and said, “If I could, I’d adopt a baby and raise it by myself, but I don’t think that’s the ideal situation. It’s really best to raise a child in a two-parent home.”
    “Wait a minute!” Ivy put down the rotary cutter she’d been using and raised her hand. “I think that really depends on what two parents you’re talking about. Bethany and Bobby are way better off living with me alone than they ever were living with me and Hodge.”
    Ivy’s ex-husband, Hodge, an abuser as well as an embezzler, was in prison for his crimes and would likely remain there for many years to come.
    Abigail, who was nodding her agreement, started to say something else, but Liza held up both hands and interrupted her.
    “Okay, okay. We’re getting off track. I want to talk about marriage. Children can be an important part of marriage, I know, but I want to get back to the original question.” She turned and looked at me. “Knowing what you know now, would you have married Rob?”
    “Hold on. That’s not what you asked the first time. Knowing what I know now? You mean, knowing that we’d end up divorced, would I do it again? That’s a silly question. When you’re making that decision, you don’t get to know how it will