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Maggie
    Block party? Lucy wasn’t even half done. She swallowed a lump of panic and quickly scanned the other e-mails.
    There was one or two about work. A message asking for some minor revisions in the brochure she’d sent on Friday. She dashed off a quick note, making some wild promise to return it by Tuesday night.
    Then she ran to her knitting bag and pulled out the shrug.
    Yes, paying the rent and keeping the lights on were important. But until she finished most of this stupid shrug, she wouldn’t be able to focus on work anyway. There was clearly no choice but to settle down for some serious knitting.
    Not in Maggie’s shop, either, where she would usually take shelter at such trying times. She didn’t want anyone to know she’d been such a slacker. Or perhaps in this case, a better term was a shrugger?
    Lucy guessed that Suzanne, whowas the slowest, most scattered knitter in their group, was in the same boat. In the late afternoon, Lucy checked in with a text and Suzanne’s reply confirmed it. She was even further behind with the assignment. Lucy commiserated and invited her over for a secret knitting session.
    “I feel a little guilty meeting like this,” Suzanne admitted as she came in.
    “I do, too.” Lucy poured Suzanne a glass of wine and pulled out her shrug. “But misery loves company. We’ll tell them tomorrow night. When we’re done.”
    “If we’re done.” She took a sip of wine and looked down at her shrug. “Where’s Matt tonight?”
    “He wanted to come over but he heard that certain note of panic in my voice when we were on the phone today. He knows when to stay clear of the line of fire by now.”
    “You’ve trained him well. I think he’s almost housebroken. I just say ‘I have to go out after dinner tonight’ in a certain way and Kevin knows better by now not to ask any questions. I tossed a few boxes of pizza in their direction and let them fend for themselves. Homework projects, last-minute laundry requests . . . lunches for tomorrow.”
    With three children, a full-time job, and a big house to take care of, Suzanne’s to-do list was endless. Lucy had sympathy for her. If and when she ever had children, Lucy wondered if she’d be as skilled at all the juggling.
    They eventually switched from wine, fruit, and cheese to tea and cookies, managing to knit steadily until midnight.
    “Well, I’m not done, but I’ve made a good effort, don’t you think?” Suzanne held up the nearly completed sweater.
    “Absolutely. Don’t worry aboutthe rest. Dana or Maggie will love swooping in and coming to the rescue.”
    Lucy thought she would work a little more tonight and actually be finished by the meeting tomorrow. But she didn’t want to tell Suzanne and make her feel bad.
    When Tuesday night arrived, Lucy walked up the path to Maggie’s shop, her fingers suffering a bit of knitting burnout as they gripped the handles of her tote bag. But her shrug was ready for blocking and a march down the aisle.
    Her friends were in the back of the shop as usual, everyone showing off her handiwork. They had all finished on time, including Suzanne.
    “You never fail to surprise me,” Lucy whispered to Suzanne privately. “Did the fiber fairies take pity on you last night?”
    “Not quite . . . I called in sick at the office this morning,” she whispered back. “I needed a mental health day, anyway. It was the perfect excuse.”
    “The sweaters look wonderful.” Nora walked around the table, admiring everyone’s work. “The flower girl’s is adorable . . . Did you add this trim?” she asked Phoebe, eyeing some tiny white daisies that were carefully sewn on along the collar.
    “Yeah, well, I knew I was knitting outside the lines a little. But I thought it would be a nice touch. You know, flowers . . . flower girl?” Phoebe said.
    “It’s really lovely. I’m sure Rebecca will love it,” her mother replied.
    “Where is Rebecca? Is she here yet?” Lucy asked Nora.
    “Oh, she’s