The Knitting Diaries (10 page)

When Eleanor had driven away, Robyn folded her arms over her chest and stared at T.J.

“Why don’t you tell me why you’re really here,” she said.

“All right.” He glared at her. “I know your kind and I know what you want. Don’t for a minute think you’re going to get away with it. If you’re going to get to them, you’re going to have to go through me.”

T.J.
had to give the woman credit. She didn’t back down. Instead she went to her car and pulled out a couple of boxes, then started for the front door of the house.

He followed her.

“I thought you were here to help,” she said.

“Help your grandmother, not you.”

She set the boxes in the living room next to her suitcases. “So you’re a liar as well as someone who makes pretty incredible assumptions about someone they’ve only just met. Good to know.”

She was pretty, he thought absently, in a too-thin kind of way. Her cheekbones nearly jutted through her pale skin. Her blond hair could be attractive, if it was a little longer. As it was, the sleek, jaw-length bob only emphasized her sharp chin.

She pointed to the door. “You need to go now.”

“Not until I find out what you’re after.”

Her blue eyes turned frosty. “What are you talking about? Eleanor is my grandmother. Has it occurred to you that I’m back to take care of her during her surgery? Where do you get off assuming anything bad about me? You don’t even know me.”

“And you don’t know me.” He stared at her. “I’m a friend of hers and her friends. You’d know that if you’d bothered to get involved in their lives, but you haven’t even visited except for a couple of days here and there. You’ve been off in New York, taking care of yourself. Never giving a thought to these women who love you. Instead you’re sucking them dry. I couldn’t do anything about it before, but I sure can now, and I will.”

Her mouth opened, then closed. She shook her head. “Do you think I’m after money?”

“What else? They financed your move there and who knows how much they’re spending on a monthly basis. It’s expensive to live in the city. You’re sure as hell not supporting yourself in the theater.” He narrowed his gaze. “They might believe your lies, but I don’t. I’ve looked on the internet. You haven’t been in a play in over three years. Although to hear them brag, you’re going to be up for a Tony any day now.”

She flushed, then ducked her head. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He knew enough, he thought grimly. He knew that she wanted Eleanor and her friends to think she was on her way to making it as an actress. T.J. was willing to overlook a lot of faults, but he wasn’t one to forgive a liar. Especially when those lies hurt people he cared about.

He might have come to Only Ewe reluctantly and because taking the knitting class got his doctor off his ass. But over time, he’d found that it was a safe place to be. There were no memories in the store. Just grandmotherly types who fussed over him and made being alive a little less painful.

He spent the first six months resisting their efforts to embrace him. Over time, they’d sucked him into their
world. Once he’d given himself over to the process, he’d begun to heal.

Now they were his family and there was no way a skinny, selfish wannabe actress was going to hurt them. He would have to tread carefully—he knew Eleanor adored her granddaughter. But there were ways of protecting the old ladies without them catching on.

“I know enough,” he told her. “I’ll be watching and waiting.”

“You’re going to have to do that from the other side of the door,” she told him, pointing. “Get out.”

He went. When she slammed the door, he only smiled. If she thought a couple of pieces of wood were enough to protect her from him, she was wrong.

Robyn woke shortly after five-thirty in the morning. It took her a second to realize she’d slept for nearly fifteen hours straight. She was starving, but for the first time in forever, she felt rested and at peace.

She was home. She’d moved in with her grandmother after her mother had died. Robyn had been twelve and scared, but never alone. Eleanor had always been a part of her life. They’d been a close family, the three Mulligan women.

She showered in the bathroom across the hall, then dressed. It felt good not to have to put on her waitressing uniform. If she never wore a short black skirt and white shirt again in her life, she would be happy.

Her favorite jeans were loose, she thought, knowing she’d lost another couple of pounds in the past week. All that running around and not so much on the eating. But that would change, she told herself. One of the great
things about Texas was the food. There was plenty of it and she would be able to afford it.

Robyn dug around in a bottom dresser drawer to find an old T-shirt to pull on. As she grabbed the one on top, she felt something hard tucked underneath. A book, she thought, pulling that out as well. Only, it wasn’t a book.

The worn cover had once been bright blue. Time had left the fabric faded to a more gray color. The pages were a little tattered at the edges. She slipped on the T-shirt, then sat on the bed and flipped through what had once been her diary.

Her grandmother had given her the book years ago. Robyn couldn’t have been more than ten or twelve. The first entries were about dance classes and singing lessons, ideas for a sweater she wanted to make her mother for Christmas. Later her thoughts had shifted to boys and fashion, until her mother had gotten sick. Then Robyn hadn’t written in her diary for a long time.

Now she turned to the last page and read.

“I head to New York tomorrow. I’m not afraid. I’m going there to make all my dreams come true. Not just for me, but for my mom, too. She never had the chance. It’s up to me to make this happen for both of us.”

Robyn closed the book. She hadn’t been able to make her mother’s dreams come true—or her own. Even a few months ago, that knowledge would have been painful. Now she understood that everything had changed. That facing her future with courage was a way to finally be free.

She put the diary back in the drawer, made her way to the kitchen and started coffee.

After opening the refrigerator, she nearly swooned at the sight of eggs and bacon, fruit, and hamburger thawing
on a plate. If she wasn’t mistaken, her grandmother was planning on her famous spaghetti that night. Robyn’s mouth watered at the memory of the delicious sauce smothering a huge plate of noodles.

While the coffee brewed, she moved into the dining room. Family pictures lined the walls. Her mother as a young girl, dressed in a tutu, standing on her toes. Her mother as a teenager, in costume for a school play.

There were similar pictures of Robyn as she’d grown up. At the ballet barre at her mother’s dance studio. In high school productions. Their dreams were the same—to be on the stage. To make it on Broadway.

Instead of leaving for New York, Robyn’s mother had fallen in love. When she’d discovered she was pregnant, the man who had stolen her heart had taken off, leaving her alone. She’d been determined that Robyn wouldn’t follow in her footsteps. From the time Robyn could understand what her mother was saying, she’d heard over and over again that a man only got in the way of a woman’s dream. She knew she had to do better. That she had to be successful for both herself and her mother.

Her grandmother had tried to temper the message, saying life was balance, but it was too little, too late. Robyn had gone to New York after college, determined to be the best. Failure hadn’t been an option, but it had happened just the same.

She heard footsteps in the hallway and looked up.

“Good morning,” she said when she saw Eleanor. “I can’t believe I slept straight through.”

“You needed it.”

“I’m feeling much better.” She crossed to the older woman and hugged her. “How are you?”

“Happy to have you home. I thought we’d have spaghetti tonight.”

“I saw that. My stomach is still growling at the thought.”

They went into the kitchen. While Eleanor poured coffee, Robyn got out eggs and did her best not to whimper in anticipation. She inhaled the smell of the bacon, sipped coffee and dropped toast into the toaster.

“Just one slice for me,” Eleanor said. “I’m cutting back a little. I wanted to lose ten pounds before my surgery. Only one more to go. You’re incredibly thin, Robyn. What’s your secret?”

Not having enough money to buy food, she thought grimly. “I’m on my feet all the time and I’m so busy, I forget to eat.” She gave a fake laugh. “The working girl’s diet. I’m hoping to put on a few pounds now that I’m back.”

“Easy enough. I’ll make cinnamon rolls this weekend.”

“I’d like that.”

They sat across from each other at the table. As Robyn devoured the food, she studied her grandmother, taking in the familiar features, the new lines around her eyes. Eleanor wasn’t getting younger, but she was still healthy and active. Robyn hoped to have her for at least another twenty years.

“You looked busy at the store,” Robyn said when she’d inhaled the three eggs she’d scrambled, along with four pieces of bacon.

“We are. The Old Town section of Georgetown is always so active and vital. We have our loyal customer base and plenty of new customers. Knitting is very in these days.” Eleanor frowned. “Do you young people still say ‘in’?”

Robyn grinned. “We understand what it means.”

“I want to stay current,” her grandmother said primly. “I even text.”

“Good for you.”

“I see you and T.J. got everything in from your car.”

T.J. hadn’t been any help at all, Robyn thought, pushing away the last slice of toast. Thinking about the irritating man spoiled the rest of her appetite.

She’d been afraid obsessing about him would have kept her up, but fortunately she’d been too exhausted to let him interrupt her sleep. He’d been so annoying and oddly attractive, which really bothered her.

Still, she couldn’t figure out where he got the idea she was a bad person. As for leeching off her grandmother, yes, Eleanor and her friends had financed Robyn’s move to New York, but nothing else. She’d been determined to survive on her own and she had.

“You said he’d been coming to the store for a couple of years,” she murmured.

“Yes. His doctor sent him. It was very sad. His wife and baby son were killed in a car accident. Apparently he wasn’t expected to make it, either. But he did. He was in physical therapy for months. He was told to take up knitting to help with his fine motor skills.” She smiled. “I confess Adeline, Marion and I have pretended to be far more helpless than we are to try to bring him back to life.”

“That was very sweet of you,” Robyn said automatically, not sure what to do with the revelation. The man who had accused her of being a horrible person and a leech was someone she could easily dislike. The injured guy who lost his wife and young son was someone else entirely.

“He’s still not healed,” Eleanor said with a sigh as she rose to her feet. “On the outside, he’s fine, but I do worry about his heart. It’s still broken. He’s so closed off. Oh, he’s friendly enough, but nothing really touches him.”

Robyn could think of a lot of descriptions for T.J. and the words
friendly enough
didn’t make her list. But he’d apparently become a friend to her aunt and her friends, for which Robyn was grateful. But that didn’t mean she had to like the man.

Eleanor carried her plates over to the sink. “I enjoyed having breakfast with you. It’s been a long time.”

Robyn stood, as well. “It has. Too long. Grandma, I need to talk to you about what happened in New York.” It was time to come clean about her past.

Her grandmother smiled at her. “I would love to hear all of it, but I need to get to the store. We have an early class today. Can it wait?”

Robyn nodded. “Sure.”

“Good. Come to the store whenever you’re ready.”

Robyn stayed behind long enough to clean the kitchen, then she walked the five blocks to Only Ewe and let herself in the back. Even though it was a few minutes before eight, she heard the rumble of low conversation coming from the front part of the store. She walked around the corner, through the stockroom and stepped into the main space, only to freeze in her tracks when she saw seven or eight high school guys staring intently at the knitting needles and yarn in their hands. What on earth?

The guys were huge, with broad shoulders and massive fingers. She didn’t think she would be more surprised to see hedgehogs knitting. She blinked, then looked again.
Yup, they were still there, with T.J. at the head of the table, giving instructions.

Her grandmother limped over to her. “They come every week,” she said in a quiet voice. “Their coach’s wife knits and she and I got to talking about how it would help them with their concentration. I mentioned it to T.J. He resisted at first, but we kept on him.” She smiled. “The little projects keep him distracted. He’s suffered so much.”

“He has,” Robyn said automatically, her gaze moving to T.J.

He glanced up just then, his dark eyes meeting hers. The annoyance was back, as was the determination. The man obviously hadn’t changed his opinion of her.

“I don’t think he…” she began, then stopped when she saw her grandmother looking at him with an expression of affection and pride.

She pressed her lips together. There was no reason to point out that T.J. obviously didn’t like her. Right now she doubted her grandmother would believe her. It didn’t matter anyway. She didn’t need T.J.’s or anyone’s approval. This was her home. She was back and no crabby man was going to drive her away.

R
obyn stood on the step stool and balanced the bucket of soapy water. After raising herself onto her tiptoes, she stretched her arm over the shelf and scrubbed it with the sponge.

From what she could tell, the stockroom hadn’t been cleaned since she left six years ago. Not that she would expect elderly women to take on that kind of chore. But there was plenty of dust and grit ready to be washed away. After a good rinsing, she would dry the shelves, then put back the yarn. She figured it would take her two days to get through the entire stockroom.

She didn’t mind the physical labor. After the stress that had been her life, she enjoyed getting something specific accomplished. She also liked the chance to think.

Once Eleanor was back on her feet, Robyn would have to see about getting another job. She doubted the store could afford four of them on the payroll. Waitressing was the most obvious kind of job. With her references, she could start at the more exclusive restaurants in Austin. Bigger bills usually meant bigger tips. As long as the
place was busy. Fifteen to twenty percent of no customers wouldn’t work for her.

She was also thinking she could try to talk to a career counselor. While her degree in fine arts hadn’t exactly been long on practicality, there had to be some transferable skills. If not, she wanted to explore other kinds of schooling. Maybe a few business courses would help. She was also toying with the idea of teaching. She’d always loved kids and her favorite times in New York had been helping one of her girlfriends teach a juniors acting class.

She was so engrossed in her cleaning, that she didn’t hear anyone walk into the stockroom. She leaned to get the farthest corner of the top shelf, only to jump and shriek when she bumped into something hard and warm.

She turned away from the sensation and found herself stepping out into space. The only thing that saved her from falling was a strong arm wrapping around her legs until she regained her balance.

“Are you trying to kill me?” she snapped, glaring down at T.J. “Why are you sneaking around?”

His normal loathing expression looked almost amused. “I wasn’t sneaking. Marion’s going out for sandwiches and she wanted me to ask you if you wanted one.”

“I brought lunch from home,” she said.

“You mean instead of having your grandmother pay for your lunch out, you’re letting her pay for you to take her food from her house.”

She did her best not to blush. Despite how she felt about him, he was telling the truth—at least about that. She wasn’t paying for the food. She hoped that her hard work made it a fair exchange, but she couldn’t say for sure.

Part of her wanted to point out that her grandmother
loved her and would do anything for her. Eleanor would never begrudge her a few meals. But saying that meant admitting even the tiniest part of what T.J. thought of her was true and she refused to go down that road.

“I can see I was mistaken,” she said, returning to her cleaning. “When I first saw you, I thought you were a cowboy. I was wrong. You talk way too much to be anything but a business type.”

He surprised her by chuckling. “That’s your grandmother’s fault. And those other two. I never used to talk at all.”

“You could practice being quiet.”

“I could,” he agreed. “But I won’t.”

“Because you’re determined to protect them from me.”

He nodded.

“Won’t you feel like a jerk when you find out you’ve been wrong,” she told him.

“I would, but we both know I’m right.”

She drew in a breath and stared down into his dark eyes. “No. We don’t.”

He studied her for a long time, then turned to leave. He took a few steps. If she hadn’t known about the bad accident, she might not have noticed the slight hesitation in his stride, as if he had to think before he moved. When he reached the doorway, he faced her again.

“You’re going to have to tell them the truth about your so-called career,” he said. “Or I will.”

Robyn sat at the big craft table in the rear of the store with the other beginners. She’d chosen a lightweight cotton blend from the sale bin and size seven bamboo needles for her first project. Six years ago she could
have whipped out a complex pattern without having to blink. Today the idea of a simple rectangular wrap was daunting.

“It will come back to you,” Adeline told her encouragingly. “Your fingers remember.”

Maybe, Robyn thought doubtfully. Right now her fingers felt stiff and uncooperative.

She cast on the first row, working slowly, awkwardly. Her hands seemed to work in opposition, rather than as a team. But as she started the second row, she was pleased to see that her stitches were even. All was not lost.

“Oh, no.” The young woman sitting next to Robyn stared at her own project, her eyes wide with dismay. “I dropped a stitch. It’s gone.”

She sounded heartbroken.

Without thinking, Robyn put down her project and reached for the woman’s needles. “It’s just hiding,” she said with a smile. “We’ll find it.”

The panel looked to be the front of a sweater for a child. The stitches were small and a little lumpy, but the pattern was nice.

Robyn peered at the work, counting stitches, then seeing where the slipped stitch had disappeared. She coaxed the yarn up and over the needle, worked the stitch, then handed it back to the customer.

“There you go.”

The woman stared at her. “That was impressive. Are you sure you want to be in the beginner group?”

“I haven’t knit in years. I guess there are some things you don’t forget.”

“Apparently not. I’m Belinda.”

“Hi. Robyn. Eleanor’s my grandmother, so I might have a genetic advantage.”

The petite brunette laughed. “I come from a long line of women who weren’t the least bit creative. But I’m determined to learn something. Cake decorating turned out to be a complete disaster, so I’ve moved on to knitting. I really like it, plus it’s something I can do while my daughter is at dance class.”

“Absolutely,” Robyn agreed with her. “It would be more difficult to travel with cake decorating supplies.”

Belinda laughed.

Robyn glanced up in time to see her grandmother smiling approvingly. She told herself to enjoy the moment because as soon as she confessed all, everything would change. For now, it was enough to be here, to feel the yarn in her hands, to see the colors and textures. Even though she hadn’t been able to afford knitting supplies while she’d been gone, she hadn’t been able to resist going into some of the knitting stores just to look at the yarn, to hold it in her hands and dream about what she could create.

She continued to knit and chat with the other customers. Marion walked around the table, offering advice and giving praise.

“It’s too bad you weren’t able to keep up with your knitting in New York,” the older woman said. “I thought all actors did something on set to pass the time.”

“That would be in the movies,” Eleanor told her. “Between takes. Robyn was on the stage.”

“Oh, of course.”

Belinda turned to Robyn. “You’re an actress? On Broadway?”

Robyn felt herself flush. “Not exactly.”

“She was very successful,” Eleanor said proudly. “Practically nominated for a Tony.”

“I wish,” Robyn muttered. “It wasn’t like that.”

“How exciting,” Belinda said with a sigh. “I’ve never even been out of the state. I got married right after high school and was pregnant before I was twenty. Now I have three kids. But one day…”

Marriage and three kids sounded kind of nice, Robyn thought. Having a home, knowing where she belonged. At least Belinda hadn’t wasted her life and her opportunities. Robyn had worked her butt off and for what? The chance to become a really good waitress?

Thankfully, the subject changed to the empty store next door and speculation about who would lease it.

With the lunch hour came a rush of customers. Robyn put away her project and got up to help her grandmother. As she rang up yarn and talked patterns, she was aware of Eleanor’s limping stride as she walked around the store. Had the other woman put off the surgery longer than she should have to give Robyn more time in New York?

Robyn knew T.J. would tell her yes, and blame her for everything from the economy to global warming. While she wasn’t willing to take responsibility for all of that, she couldn’t help wondering if her grandmother had suffered on her behalf. It wasn’t a happy thought.

Tonight, she promised herself. She would tell them the truth tonight, after the store closed.

Robyn kept her word. Shortly after six, when the customers were finally gone and the front doors locked, she walked to the craft table where her grandmother and her two friends were waiting. They’d all agreed to stay so she could talk to them about what it was like living in New York. She was determined to be brutally honest—as much for the sake of her conscience as for their edification.

Now, as she looked at their three loving faces, she
wished she had a different story to tell. Disappointing people was hard enough. Disappointing the three women who loved her best in the world would be like cutting out part of her heart.

Marion smiled at her. “We were just talking about what a pretty girl you were. So talented. I remember your first dance recital.”

“Didn’t she sing, too?” Adeline asked. “That song from
Annie.
”

“You were very special,” Eleanor said. “I was so proud when you got the lead in the high school play and you were only a freshman. The other students were furious, but you were the best.”

“Oh, and that college production of
Grease
. You were the perfect Sandy.” Eleanor sighed. “Such happy times.”

Robyn swallowed hard, then pulled out a chair across from the three of them and sat down.

“Those are all great memories,” she began, telling herself it was for the best to come clean. “I really thought I was going to show up in New York and immediately become a star.” Like hundreds of thousands of other young, foolish dreamers did every year, she thought ruefully. Reality was very different.

“You might not be a star yet,” Eleanor told her. “But you’ve made excellent progress.”

“No, I haven’t.” Robyn looked at each of them. “I wasn’t completely honest with you. About anything. My career wasn’t going well. It wasn’t going at all.”

The women exchanged glances.

“What do you mean?” Adeline asked.

“At first I did go on a lot of auditions. I got a few parts. But then everything sort of dried up. In high school and
college, I was one of the best. But in New York, there were a thousand other girls just like me. Acting classes are expensive. I burned through the money you gave me in a few months and had to start waitressing just to pay the rent.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” her grandmother asked.

“Because I didn’t want you to worry. Because I was ashamed of not being everything everyone thought I would be.” Robyn stared at her hands on the table. “I haven’t had a callback in two years.” She forced herself to raise her gaze. “I lived in a sixth-floor walk-up. One small room, with the tiniest bathroom ever. I’m not skinny because it’s fashionable, but because I can’t afford much food. When I got pneumonia two years ago, it wiped me out financially. I didn’t have insurance and the bills kept coming. I’ve paid them all now, but it’s been tough.”

“Oh, Robyn,” Marion breathed. “You should have said something.”

“I couldn’t. I had to make it on my own. At least that’s what I told myself. I wasn’t giving up. But it’s been six years. I’m done trying. I want a real life. I want to not be hungry anymore. I haven’t had a steak since I left Texas. I haven’t been on a date in three years and I haven’t…”

She stopped. There was no reason for her grandmother and her friends to know how long it had been since she’d been with a man. That definitely fell into the category of too much information.

“Is this why you always put us off when we wanted to visit?” her grandmother asked gently.

She nodded. “It was easier for me to come here for a couple of days. I could still pretend that way.” She paused. “I think dreams are great. But mine turned into a nightmare. I’m ready to be done. I was so grateful when you
asked me to come back. Knowing you needed me gave me permission to finally admit the truth to myself. That I was desperate to come back home. This is where I belong.”

Robyn tried to smile and wasn’t sure she succeeded. “When you’re up on your feet again, I’m going to find a job and get my own place. I want to save some money, go back to college and figure out what to do with the rest of my life.” She swallowed. “I hope you’re not too disappointed in me.”

Her grandmother rose and started around the table. Robyn hurried to meet her, then was pulled into a warm, loving embrace. Adeline and Marion joined in, making her feel safe and welcome.

“I could never be disappointed in you,” Eleanor said fiercely. “I love you and I’m thrilled you’re back to stay.”

“We all are,” Marion told her.

“Silly girl,” Adeline murmured.

T.J. stood slowly. He’d walked in through the back just about the time Robyn started talking to her grandmother and had stayed to listen. After a couple of minutes, he’d thought maybe she was telling the truth. That she wasn’t the leech he’d first thought.

She’d had a tough time, he admitted to himself, and he felt kind of bad she’d gone hungry trying to pay her bills. Maybe he should give her a break and let her prove herself to him instead of assuming the worst.