A Farewell to Yarns

you living here because someone mentioned it, and I recognized the name of the suburb because of Jane. But I can’t remember who it was.“
    “What a pity. Where are you from?“
    “Originally Philadelphia, then Chicago. But for the last thirteen years, my husband and I have been living on a little island in the Caribbean.”
    She made it sound like she had a Quonset hut on somebody else’s beach.
    “Phyllis and her husband own the island and the hotel on it,“ Jane couldn’t resist saying.
    Anybody else might have goggled at this; Fiona was unmoved. “How interesting that must be,“ she said with friendly blandness. “I’ve always liked the Caribbean, but I can’t stay there long, because I sunburn so badly. Albert and I went to Jamaica once, and I got a horrible burn, in spite of the fact that I slathered on so much suntan lotion I couldn’t sit on a chair without sliding off. Do you miss the seasonal changes?”
    This, of course, was one of Phyllis’s favorite topics and elaborations took them into the house and into the ground floor guest room where the church bazaar cartons were stored. Jane studied the array of boxes for a moment, wondering where to start. They were stacked everywhere with only a narrow aisle between them. Fiona had said a few people had dropped things off since this morning, but it looked more like an army had looted a small, holiday-oriented country and left all the spoils here.
    As Jane stood, gazing with bewilderment, she heard Phyllis saying, “... And it will be so nice to be back permanently.“
    “Back permanently?“ Jane asked, roused from her stupor by these chilling words.
    “Yes, I was telling Fiona about moving back. We haven’t had time to talk about it yet, Jane. Chet told me to find a nice house here, and he’d buy it for Bobby and me if I wanted.“
    “You’re going to live in Chicago?“ Jane tried to sound bright and cheerful but felt like she had a mouthful of mud. Having Bobby Bryant around permanently would be about as much fun as having a car wreck in a Pinto. She had to suppress the urge to run to the nearest phone, call Shelley, and scream, “Help me! Help me!“
    “Maybe you’d be interested in the house next door?“ Fiona asked, obviously as a conversational gambit, not as a sincere suggestion. “I was telling Jane about it just this morning.“ She went on to explain chattily about the old lady, the nursing home, and the son’s anxiety to get a tax break by selling before the end of the year.
    “That might be very nice,“ Phyllis said. “At least it would give me time to look around for something else without imposing on Jane. And we’d be so close. Wouldn’t that be fun, Jane? Just like the old days.”
    Please don’t do this to me, God. I’m a good person, and I don’t deserve it, Jane thought.
     

Eight
     
    Jane held up a pinecone wreath and pretended she hadn’t heard the question. “I wonder who made this. It’s awfully nice work, isn’t it? It’s got these little peppermint sticks woven in, but they’re not meant to be eaten anyway—“
    “Would you really like to take a look?“ Fiona was asking. “The man left us a key in case I wanted to show it to anyone.“
    “That would be fun, but we should help Jane—“
    “Why don’t I have Albert run over with you, while I—“
    “Did I hear my name being taken in vain?“ Albert had apparently come down the hallway just as Fiona referred to him.
    “Oh, Albert—you know Jane Jeffry, she was here earlier. And this is her friend Phyllis Wagner,“ Fiona said.
    He looked at Phyllis, at Jane, and at the room full of cartons and was struck dumb.
    “It’s not as chaotic as it looks,“ Jane assured him. The man had actually paled at the sight of what had happened to his home. “I pretty well know what all this stuff is, and it’ll be out of your house in another week or so, after the sale.”
    Fiona explained to Albert, who still looked stricken, what she wanted him to do, but he obviously didn’t want to be bothered acting as somebody else’s real estate agent. “I’m expecting the accountant any minute. He’s bringing some forms over that need to go in by midnight.“
    “I’ll keep him entertained if he shows up,“ his wife assured him. “It’ll only take you a minute.”
    “But Fiona—”
    Jane glanced up, aware of the tension growing in the room. Albert was on the verge of digging his heels in. Phyllis was looking at him with undisguised fascination,