Blossom Street Brides (19 page)

When she arrived at A Good Yarn, Lydia came in through the back entrance, choosing to park in the alley. If customers saw her inside the shop, it would be hard to turn them away.

Whiskers greeted her, and after feeding him and giving him attention she sequestered herself inside her tiny office. Whiskers returned to his spot in the window and curled up for a nap.

Dreading the task before her, Lydia put it off and brewed herself a single cup of coffee. Sitting at her desk, she savored it before she started in on paying bills, a necessary evil.

Business had picked up slightly, but it was difficult to
show a profit in a down economy, and they were heading into the summer months, when business generally took a downturn. Lydia had a strict budget she needed to adhere to. Thankfully, she was able to pay her creditors and employees with a small amount left over, which was a nice surprise. It would be helpful to have more than the most rudimentary website, but she wouldn’t be able to afford that anytime soon. She was grateful Brad’s job supported their family, and he encouraged her efforts with a small business.

A loud knock sounded against the glass at the front door. Lydia glanced at her watch, surprised to find that nearly ninety minutes had passed. It didn’t seem possible. Hurrying out of her office, she went to the front of the store and unlocked the door for the
Seattle Times
reporter.

“Hello again,” Shannon Kidder greeted.

Lydia had the other woman’s business card, and after reading several of Shannon’s columns online, she felt the reporter could be trusted to set the right tone for the news piece.

“Come in, please.” She opened the door wider to allow the reporter greater access.

Shannon came into the shop, paused, and looked around at the shelves of yarn and the variety of colors Lydia had so carefully organized. Between her and her staff members, several sample projects had been knitted and were artfully displayed around the shop.

“I don’t know that I’ve ever been in a yarn store before,” Shannon said, and handed Lydia a second business card.

“Welcome, then. I hope when we’re finished that you’ll
feel free to look around. I thought we could talk at the table in the back.” Lydia pointed toward the section of the store where the staff taught classes. The table was used for social knitting as well.

“I appreciate your willingness to chat with me when the shop is technically closed,” Shannon said, following Lydia.

“I’m happy to do it.”

Shannon pulled out a chair and then removed a tablet from her purse. “Would it be all right for me to record our conversation?”

“Of course.” Brad had told her to expect to be recorded. “I went online and read a few of your articles. I like the way you close each with that little play on your name.
And I’m not kidding
.”

“Thanks. I try.” Shannon set her cellphone on the tabletop. “Spell your surname for me so I’m sure I have it right.”

“Goetz. G-O-E-T-Z.”

“Perfect. Thank you. From what I understood when we spoke briefly on Sunday, these baskets with the yarn and needles are as much a surprise to you as anyone.”

“Very much so.”

“You don’t have any idea who is delivering these around the neighborhood?”

Casey had her suspicions, and Brad had mentioned a couple of names, too. “None whatsoever.”

Shannon made a quick notation. “But your store is involved in charity knitting?”

“Oh, yes.” Lydia felt herself starting to relax as she told
the reporter about the preemie-cap program for local hospitals. She brought a few of the most recent donations over for Shannon to inspect.

“We’re also involved in Warm Up America! and Knit for Kids, which is a World Vision program.”

“And now scarves for the homeless,” Shannon added.

“Indirectly.” Lydia didn’t want the reporter to give her credit when none was due. “Like I said, I’m not the one responsible for these special scarves, although I’ve certainly knit for each of the charities I mentioned. My customers are the ones with the big hearts. I’ve discovered that knitters are caring and generous.”

“In other words, A Good Yarn provides an outlet for your customers to reach out to help others.”

“You could say that, yes.” Lydia felt she had the most wonderful, loyal customer base anywhere. Many who routinely shopped at the store had become her dearest friends. Alix for sure; Carol and Elise, who now worked for her part-time; and Bethanne, too. Her mind crowded with names and faces, such dear, dear friends.

This yarn store had also given Lydia a relationship with her sister. Because of her health issues as a teen and young adult, Lydia had never felt close to Margaret. Her sister had deeply resented all the attention Lydia received because of the cancer. It was the yarn store that had brought them together. That and caring for their mother.

The interview didn’t take long. By the end of it, Shannon expressed a desire to sign up for the beginning knitting class.

“I hope you do.”

“I’m not kidding,” she joked as Lydia let her out the front door.

With the interview finished, Lydia returned to her office, looked at the ledger, and realized once more that while she wasn’t making money hand over fist, there remained several benefits to owning A Good Yarn. Benefits that far exceeded the balance in her checkbook.

Bethanne noticed that Annie managed to avoid her all week, which was ridiculous. Clearly Annie remained upset with Max, and evidently with Bethanne, too. So be it. It was time her daughter accepted the fact that Bethanne and Max were married and intended to stay that way.

From what Max had told her, Annie’s attitude toward him had come to a head Sunday afternoon. Bethanne had the feeling she’d managed to miss the worst of their confrontation, which was probably for the best. Being stuck in the middle between the two of them would have been uncomfortable to say the least.

It was little wonder Max had asked her to uproot and sell the business and move to California if it meant no longer having to deal with her daughter and ex-husband. Who could blame him? Never did Bethanne suspect that her marriage would cause such an upheaval in her relationship with her daughter.

It was true Annie had always felt close to Grant; she was
his little girl, and his darling who could do no wrong. Her daughter had taken it especially hard when Grant asked for the divorce. And she’d been the first to champion Grant when it became apparent his marriage to Tiffany was in trouble. The moment the divorce was final, Annie was convinced her parents would eventually reunite. Max had ruined the vision Annie held in her mind of the perfect family.

However, by then Bethanne’s eyes were wide open when it came to her ex-husband. Not for an instant did she trust his claims of undying love. Nor was she the same woman Grant had left. Her life was different now, and so was she.

By mid-afternoon on Wednesday Bethanne had had enough with the silent treatment from her daughter. She called Annie’s extension and asked her to come to the office.

Fifteen minutes later, Annie arrived. Her bad attitude seemed to radiate off her the instant she walked into the room. She stood in front of Bethanne’s desk, looking straight ahead, with her arms folded tightly over her chest. The sour look on her face could curdle milk.

“Sit down, Annie,” she said softly.

Reluctantly, her daughter took a seat. Her spine remained rigid, and she seemed completely unwilling to meet Bethanne’s gaze.

“Can you give me an update on the Costco employee picnic?” Bethanne asked, deciding to ease into this difficult conversation with a business discussion first.

Annie visibly relaxed and went into a detailed report of the progress of the party plans for the Kirkland, Washington-based
company. While Annie spoke, Bethanne stood and walked over to the window, which looked out over the city. While appreciating the view, she listened intently as her daughter gave the report, stopping her once or twice with questions.

When it came to the business side of their relationship, they were on solid ground. Annie had proved to be an asset to the company, taking on the responsibility of handling their corporate clients. Her ideas were good, and she’d proved herself to be more than capable of dealing with these larger accounts.

When she’d finished, Bethanne praised her daughter’s efforts. “It sounds like you have everything under control.”

“I had excellent training,” she said, complimenting Bethanne.

Bethanne walked around to the front of her desk and leaned her backside against the edge. “On a completely different subject—”

“Are you going to berate me about Max? If you are, then I’m leaving right now.”

So that was the way it was going to be. “Berating you wasn’t my intention. You’re an adult and fully capable of making your own decisions. It’s highly unlikely anything I say will change your attitude toward Max. It would be foolish of me to try.”

“I don’t like him, Mom. If you’d heard the horrible, ugly things he said to me, you wouldn’t be so quick to defend him.”

“I didn’t defend him, and I won’t defend you to him,
either. What happened is between the two of you.” If Max had been disrespectful to her daughter, then it went without saying that he’d been provoked. Annie was certainly capable of being argumentative and belligerent.

“He’s not a good person, Mom.”

Bethanne held up her hand, stopping her. “I believe you’ve already made your dislike of Max abundantly clear.”

“Good,” Annie snapped. “Because you need to hear it.”

“How you feel toward Max doesn’t change my love for him,” Bethanne said, and crossed her arms.

Annie’s face tightened, and her eyes narrowed with impertinence. “I’ll never accept him as my stepfather.”

“I’m not asking you to.” It was important that Annie understood this. “What I’m asking is that you accept him as my husband.”

Annie’s eyes flashed first with defiance and then confusion. “What does that mean?”

“It means that Max and I are married. He lives with me when he can, which unfortunately for the time being isn’t full-time. We’re hoping to change that in the near future.”

“Is he moving to Seattle?” Annie demanded, as though this was the worst possible news.

“We don’t know yet. It’s one option.”

It took a moment for the meaning to soak into Annie’s stubborn brain. “You’re not saying that
you’re
moving to California
full-time
?”

“Like I said, I don’t know yet. That’s another possibility, and one we’re thinking through carefully.”

As if she’d received an electric shock from the chair, Annie bolted to her feet. “But what about—”

“No decisions have been made, Annie. Max and I are talking, and I wanted you to be aware that there’s the possibility that I will either sell the business or move our headquarters to another state.”

Her daughter’s mouth took on the appearance of a mounted bass. “Have you lost your mind? I can’t believe you’re actually considering such a thing. You can’t leave Seattle. This is our home … your home,” she amended. “It’s ridiculous … it’s preposterous.” Her eyes narrowed. “Max asked you to do this, didn’t he?”

“Annie, I’ll say it again. Nothing has been decided.”

“Mom,” she cried, and it almost sounded as if she were close to tears. “You aren’t actually considering this, are you?”

“As a matter of fact, I’m giving it serious consideration.”

“And you don’t understand why I detest Max? Look what he’s doing. He’s taking you away from all of us … from Andrew and Courtney. What about the baby? What about me?”

“Can you blame Max for wanting me in California?” she asked softly. Her chest tightened at the pain she saw in her daughter’s eyes. She felt it herself. “Every time he’s in Seattle, there’s drama.”

“Oh, so all this is my fault.” How quickly the angry defiance replaced the hurt and worry.

“You aren’t the only one, Annie. Your father isn’t helping matters any.”

“That’s because he loves you.”

Bethanne disagreed. For a short while, Grant had managed to convince her of his love, but his true colors showed themselves in short order. “I’m sure your father has regrets. He made a mistake, and he’s sorry. The real problem is that his ego can’t accept the fact that I chose another man over him. He might claim undying love, but the only person Grant really loves is himself.”

“How can you say that?” Annie cried. “You don’t know what it’s been like for Dad since you married Max. I worry about him, Mom. It’s like the light has gone out of him. He feels like he’s screwed up his life so badly that he’ll never be the same again. Dad needs you, and you’re turning your back on him.”

“Enough, Annie. I sincerely doubt your father is pining his life away because we’re no longer married.”

“You don’t know anything when it comes to the way Dad feels about you.”

“Probably not, but the truth is, I really don’t care. As far as I’m concerned, our marriage is over and it was years ago. We’re both different people now. I wish your father well, I really do, but I’m not going back. If he can’t accept that, then it’s time he did. Perhaps you’re the one who can help him.”

Annie glared back at Bethanne as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “How can you treat Dad this way? You’re cold, Mom. You’ve got a heart of stone.” With that, she fled the office as though running from a burning building.

Releasing the tension with a lengthy sigh, Bethanne
walked back to the window and looked out over the Seattle landscape below. Perhaps she was coldhearted when it came to her ex-husband. Max would reassure her that it was a good thing. Grant was no longer part of her life.

The problem was that Grant and Bethanne had children together. They were about to be grandparents for the first time, and there were sure to be additional members coming into the family. She would never be completely free of him.

Less than twenty minutes later, Bethanne’s cellphone chirped. Caller ID told her it was Grant. No doubt Annie had immediately contacted her father, hysterical and crying. Oh, that child made for a great drama queen.

Exhaling, Bethanne waited until the third ring before she answered her phone. “Yes, Grant?” Her voice was clipped, making sure he understood that hearing from him was a nuisance.