The Knitting Diaries (4 page)

M
onday afternoon, Anne Marie walked back from the French Café where she’d had lunch. As she crossed the street she saw that Lydia was inside A Good Yarn. The
shop was technically closed on Mondays, but Lydia was often there catching up on paperwork.

What she needed, Anne Marie told herself, was a talk with a good friend, and there was no better friend than Lydia Goetz.

Walking all the way through the bookstore, she came out in the alley behind the yarn shop. She knocked at the back door and a moment later, Lydia unlocked it, smiling when she saw Anne Marie.

“Do you have time for a cup of tea?” Anne Marie realized she sounded wistful.

Lydia’s shoulders relaxed. “I was just thinking that. Come on in.”

Anne Marie followed her through the back of the store where boxes of yarn waited to be unpacked.

“How did the move go?” Lydia asked.

“So smoothly I could hardly believe it. I really appreciate Brad’s and the kids’ help.”

“They loved it, especially Casey. She’s been moved from one family to the next all her life and never had more than a suitcase. She found it…interesting that two people could accumulate so much stuff.”

Anne Marie groaned. “That’s not the end of it, either. I have an entire storage unit that still needs to be emptied.” The move to the apartment three years earlier was only meant to be temporary.

While she was married to Robert, Anne Marie had left over a disagreement regarding children. She’d wanted a family and, as the father of a grown son and daughter, he hadn’t. When neither of them was willing to budge, they’d separated. To be fair to Robert, Anne Marie had agreed to no kids when she’d married him. Over the years, however, her feelings had changed.

Unfortunately, Robert had remained adamant. No children. When they’d reached that impasse, she’d moved into the small apartment above the bookstore—her way of letting her husband know she was serious. She wanted a family. Children of her own.

Then Robert had a heart attack and was gone, and with him, her dream of bearing a child. It was while she’d been dealing with her grief that she’d met several other widows; one Valentine’s night, they’d made those lists of twenty wishes.

As one of her wishes—to do something for someone else—she’d volunteered at the local grade school and been paired with Ellen. Although she was doing well academically, Ellen had been extremely shy. Anne Marie became her “lunch buddy,” and that was how everything began, how both their lives had been transformed.

Lydia filled the kettle and plugged it in, then reached for her knitting. “Well, I’m glad it all went well.”

“Tim was a big help, too,” Anne Marie commented, mesmerized by the way her friend knit, gracefully weaving the yarn around the needles, creating what appeared to be a child’s sweater, one knit in the round from the top down.

“I heard Tim was there, but Mel didn’t show up.”

“He was with clients,” Anne Marie explained, wondering what her friend knew.

“Casey likes Tim. She said his red truck was cool.”

Anne Marie remembered how eager Casey had been to ride with Tim and Ellen on the way to the house. Tim had agreed, which thrilled Ellen, who admired the older girl.

“We had a scare Saturday afternoon when Baxter went missing,” she said, “but it actually worked out well.”

Lydia looked up in alarm. “Missing? You got him back, right?”

The kettle whistled and she set aside her knitting.

As she took two mugs from the cupboard and poured hot water over the tea bags, Anne Marie clarified her remark. “Ellen and I were out looking for Baxter and, yes, we did get him back—thank goodness. We also came across a flower shop and a bakery.”

Lydia brought the tea to the small table, along with sugar and milk. “It sounds just like Blossom Street.”

Anne Marie thanked her for the tea, added milk, then sat back. “Well, not
exactly
like Blossom Street, but close enough for Ellen to realize her new neighborhood isn’t so different from her old one. She made a new friend, too—the girl who actually found Baxter—and, as it happens, April has a dog. Another Yorkie.”

“You couldn’t have arranged that more perfectly if you’d tried,” Lydia said with a smile.

“I know.” Anne Marie stared down at her tea. “Anything new on Blossom Street?” Ellen wasn’t the only one who was going to miss living here. She’d still be working here, but—despite what she’d told Ellen—it wasn’t quite the same.

“I saw Bethanne Hamlin on Saturday—and she had news.”

“Oh? What?” Anne Marie sipped her tea. Bethanne frequented the yarn shop and was a good friend of both Lydia and Anne Marie. She ran a highly successful party business that she’d started shortly after her divorce and often visited the bookstore.

“Bethanne told me that Andrew and Courtney Pulanski are engaged.”

“That’s wonderful! When’s the wedding?”

“Mid-July.”

Anne Marie had never met Courtney, although she’d heard plenty about her. Bethanne’s son, Andrew, and Courtney had been dating for several years; they’d met in their senior year of high school, after Bethanne and Courtney had taken one of Lydia’s knitting classes.

“Bethanne’s knitting Courtney a pair of beaded fingerless gloves for the wedding. I special-ordered the yarn,” Lydia told her. “Cashmere.”

“She’s such an accomplished knitter,” Anne Marie added. “I’m sure the gloves will become a family heirloom.”

“Me, too,” Lydia said.

Anne Marie put down her cup. She searched for a way to broach the subject that had been weighing on her mind all weekend. She’d unpacked boxes late into the night on Saturday and fallen into bed exhausted. Tired though she was, she’d been unable to sleep.

All thanks to Tim Carlsen.

“Did anything else happen on Saturday?” Lydia asked after a moment of silence.

“You could say that.”

“Between you and Tim?”

Anne Marie’s head shot up. “How’d you know that?”

Lydia shrugged, her smile sympathetic. “Call it a lucky guess.”

Anne Marie exhaled slowly and picked up her tea, needing something to do with her hands. “I overheard a conversation he was having on his cell. As it turned out, he was talking to Mel, although he never really said why—other than to pass on the message that Mel called.” She paused. “At first I thought it might’ve been Vanessa.”

“The woman he was engaged to?”

Anne Marie nodded. “He told Mel the only reason he had anything to do with me was because of Ellen.”

“Ouch.” Lydia winced, not even attempting to minimize the hurt his words had inflicted.

Anne Marie looked away rather than reveal how upset she was.

“Why would he say this to Mel?”

“All I can think is that Mel phoned to clear the air. When I talked to him later, he didn’t mention it. But he and Tim are constantly goading each other. It’s ridiculous.”

“So Mel decided to set matters straight?”

“Apparently.”

“And I assume Tim was basically assuring him he had no interest in you,” Lydia said.

“That seems to be the case.”

“And that upsets you?”

More than Anne Marie ever dreamed it would.

“You still care about him, don’t you?”

“No.” Her denial was quick and emphatic. “How could I after everything he’s said and done?”

“How could you?” Lydia repeated, then leaned forward and pressed Anne Marie’s hand. “Well, first of all, the two of you have a strong bond in Ellen. She means the world to you both.”

“True.”

“He’s hardworking, funny, sincere and darn good-looking.”

All of that was accurate enough, especially the good-looking part. Tim was an attractive man; it wasn’t as if Anne Marie hadn’t noticed. When they’d first started seeing each other—while he’d been engaged to Vanessa and she hadn’t known it—they’d had such fun together. He’d been wonderful to her and to Ellen. They’d gone on
several outings, the three of them, and she’d grown close to Tim. He was easy to talk to, and before she realized what was happening, she’d fallen for him and fallen hard. She’d never let him know that, although he’d probably guessed.

The one and only time Tim had asked Anne Marie out to dinner without Ellen had been to tell her about his relationship with Vanessa.

The news had shaken her badly. When she’d had the opportunity to meet the woman who was going to become Ellen’s stepmother, it had gone poorly. Vanessa, who’d taken an instant dislike to Anne Marie, had made her as uncomfortable as possible.

When Tim had announced that his relationship with Vanessa was over, it was too late. Anne Marie couldn’t—wouldn’t—trust him again. She wasn’t willing to give him a second chance. She’d assumed that she’d completely recovered from her infatuation with Ellen’s father. And then she’d overheard Tim talking to Mel…. His revelation had distressed her more than she would’ve expected.

Okay, she’d admit that her relationship with Mel wasn’t passionate, but it was comfortable and pleasant. He was a widower, and they had a great deal in common.

“Is Tim dating anyone else now?” Lydia asked, breaking into Anne Marie’s musings.

“Pardon?” she asked, looking up, mesmerized again by the graceful movements of Lydia’s hands. As a distraction she took a sip of her tea.

“Tim? Is he seeing someone else now that Vanessa’s out of the picture?”

“I don’t think so.” But she hadn’t known when he was involved with Vanessa and he was even less likely to discuss his dating life with her now.

“What does your gut tell you?” Lydia asked.

“That it was a mistake to let Ellen see him.”

Lydia stared at her long and hard. “You don’t mean that.”

Anne Marie sighed. “No, I don’t. Ellen’s become a different child since she met Tim and learned he’s her father.” The painfully shy, reticent little girl had blossomed before Anne Marie’s eyes. Tim’s love had a lot to do with that transformation. Ellen’s eyes lit up every time she saw her father.

“In my opinion—and this
is
just my opinion—you need to acknowledge that you still have feelings for him.”

Anne Marie opened her mouth to ardently object—and then hesitated. If nothing else, the incident on Saturday proved how much she continued to care about Tim, despite all her efforts not to. For months she’d buried her feelings for him, not realizing how ineffective those attempts had been.

“I’m dating Mel now.”
Mel
was her future, not Tim.

“Mel,” Lydia murmured.

“Yes, Mel. He’s generous and…and kind and sweet.” She knew she was trying too hard to convince Lydia.

“Yes,” Lydia agreed softly. Holding Anne Marie’s gaze, she said, “But he isn’t Tim Carlsen.”

“Tim couldn’t care less about me. By his own admission, the only reason he has anything to do with me is Ellen.” Her voice cracked and she struggled to hold on to her composure.

Lydia glanced up from her knitting and, again, leaned forward to press her hand over Anne Marie’s. “Don’t be so sure. I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

“C
an April stay for dinner?” Ellen asked Anne Marie the minute they walked in the door Monday night. Her daughter and her new friend had played at April’s house
after school that afternoon. The two girls had been inseparable since they’d met on Saturday.

Anne Marie was delighted Ellen had made a friend so quickly. Even better, they attended the same school, although they had different teachers. They’d become instant friends, the way kids did at that age.

“Ah…” Anne Marie had no idea what to prepare. “Sure, April can have dinner here, as long as it’s all right with her mom and dad.”

“It is,” Ellen told her. “We already asked.”

Anne Marie did a thorough search of her kitchen cupboards. She’d gone to the store and stocked their shelves, and she could cook any number of dishes—but she couldn’t decide on even one. That showed how depressed she was; she wasn’t capable of making such a simple decision. Of course there was always the old standby. “How about macaroni and cheese?”’

“We had that for lunch,” Ellen called back.

Well, the freezer was her next option. She was about to check it when her cell phone buzzed. Sorting through the packages of frozen food, she answered it.

“Hello.”

“What are you two doing for dinner?” Mel asked.

“I don’t know yet. Why?”

“I thought I’d stop by and take you and Ellen out to eat.”

“Thanks, but I don’t think that’ll work. Ellen invited her new friend over.”

“She has a new friend already?”

“She does. April lives down the street. She found Baxter on Saturday, which is when we met her.”

“Why don’t I bring dinner?”

This was an offer too good to refuse. “Sounds great. What do you have in mind?”

Mel chuckled. “How about if I pick up one of those roasted chickens with all the fixings?”

“Thanks!” Mel was so thoughtful—and he’d just solved the problem of tonight’s dinner.

“I figured you must be exhausted after last weekend.”

“I am.” The move had taken more out of Anne Marie than she’d realized. That, and what she’d learned about Tim’s feelings toward her.

As soon as she’d closed her cell, she walked down the hall to Ellen’s room, where the girls were playing with Baxter and Iris. “Mel’s coming by with dinner. He’s bringing chicken. Would you two set the table?”

Ellen and April exchanged a glance. “Who’s Mel?” April asked.

“He’s my mother’s boyfriend,” Ellen replied.

“I thought Tim was your mother’s boyfriend,” April said, cocking her head.

“He used to be but he isn’t anymore. It’s…complicated.”

“Yeah, grown-ups can get that way,” April said sagely.

Smiling, Anne Marie returned to the kitchen.

By the time Mel arrived with dinner, the table was set. They all sat down together with Baxter and Iris settled underneath, content after their own meals.

“Anyone miss me on Blossom Street?” Ellen asked Anne Marie. She reached for a chicken leg; April took the second one.

“Lydia sends her love. Oh, and Bethanne was in the yarn store on Saturday and guess what? Andrew and Courtney got engaged.”

Ellen’s eyes brightened and she waved the chicken leg. “Can I be in their wedding? I want to be the flower girl!”

“That’s not something you ask,” Anne Marie explained. “You wait to be invited. But Courtney has several nieces and nephews your age.”

Ellen put the chicken leg back on her plate and sighed with disappointment. “I
love
weddings.”

“I know you do.”

“I was in a wedding once,” April said. “But I was only three and I don’t remember it. My mom has pictures, though. I was supposed to sprinkle rose petals down the church aisle but I ate them instead.”

Anne Marie and Mel laughed.

“Let’s play weddings after dinner!” April said excitedly. “We can be wedding planners like on TV.”

“Okay!”

Conversation flowed smoothly during the rest of the meal. They talked about television shows and upcoming movies, and Anne Marie appreciated Mel’s lack of condescension, his good-humored patience with the girls. Afterward, they asked to be excused and tore back into Ellen’s bedroom, while Mel and Anne Marie lingered over coffee.

“Thank you for bringing dinner,” Anne Marie said.

“I wasn’t here to help with the move like I’d planned. It’s the least I could do.”

“Mel, I understood. You had a business meeting.”

“I know, but I felt bad about letting you down and then there was all that angst over Baxter. I should’ve been here instead of—”

He didn’t need to complete the sentence; she knew he meant Tim. Rather than pursue the subject she let it drop.
Her conversation with Lydia had stayed in her mind all afternoon. Anne Marie didn’t
want
to have feelings for Tim. Mel was good with Ellen, so considerate and caring, and she needed to concentrate on her relationship with him.

He helped her clear the table and was about to kiss her when Ellen dashed into the kitchen. “Hurry!” she cried.

“Hurry?” Anne Marie repeated, noting the disappointed look in Mel’s eyes. “Why?”

“Come and see,” Ellen said urgently.

“See what?”

“The wedding. Come on!” She wore a white sundress and a lace-trimmed pillowcase as her veil.

Anne Marie dried her hands on the dish towel and followed her daughter down the hall. Mel came, too. Standing in the doorway of Ellen’s bedroom, she leaned against the door frame, Mel beside her.

“These are the church pews,” April said, gesturing at the books laid across the carpet in two even rows, with a center aisle wide enough for Ellen to walk down.

“Who’s the groom?” Anne Marie asked

“We haven’t decided yet,” Ellen said. “Baxter’s going to be the best man, though.” The girls had affixed a black ribbon to the dog’s neck to resemble a bow tie. However, he didn’t look pleased with his role.

“What part does Iris play?” Anne Marie asked April.

“She’s the maid of honor.”

“Of course. I should’ve guessed.”

“We need someone who can sing the wedding march,” Ellen said. “We’re wedding planners so we have to arrange it. April and I don’t know the words. All we know is ‘Here comes the bride.’”

Anne Marie was about to tell them she couldn’t sing it, either, when the doorbell rang.

“That must be April’s mom,” Anne Marie said. But even before she opened the front door she knew it wasn’t. Her intuition told her it was Tim.

The way Mel felt about him would make this awkward. Mel, nothing! Her
own
feelings were as tangled as any yarn she’d ever snarled. She didn’t want to face him, not yet. She hadn’t had time to absorb what she’d learned or the hurt he’d caused her. Still, her heart seemed to speed up as soon as she saw him and she was instantly annoyed with herself.

“Hello again,” she said without any warmth, standing on the other side of the screen door, which she kept closed, aware of how rude she was acting, yet unable to stop.

“Hi.” He held the handlebars of Ellen’s bike. “I brought this back. It had a flat tire.”

Anne Marie continued to leave the screen door shut. “I didn’t know you’d taken it.”

“I promised to repair it for Ellen.”

Mel came up behind her, placing a possessive hand on her shoulder.

Ellen joined them, wearing her white dress but having discarded her “veil.” “My bike’s fixed already?” she squealed. “Thank you, Daddy!”

“I did it this afternoon,” he said, smiling at his daughter. “Where would you like me to put it?”

“In the garage,” Anne Marie told him.

“Come and see the wedding,” Ellen said. “April and I are wedding planners. Baxter’s the best man but he keeps running off. We couldn’t decide who should be the groom. Will you, Daddy?”’

“Ah, sure,” he said, but Anne Marie sensed his hesitation.

She opened the screen door, walked down the steps and over to the garage, which was located behind the house. Mel went with her; she could feel his disapproval every step of the way. No one spoke, which made this all the more disconcerting.

“Will you tell Ellen I’ll play groom some other time?” Tim asked once he’d finished securing Ellen’s bicycle.

Anne Marie crossed her arms against the evening chill. Thankfully, Tim realized she didn’t want him there.

“That would probably be best,” she murmured.

“I agree,” Mel added.

Anne Marie could have done without his comment but didn’t bother to object. At least he wasn’t contradicting her opinion or her request.

Tim had started to leave when the back door flew open and Ellen came out. “We’re ready,” she shouted. “April and I are going to hum the song ’cause we don’t know the words.” She dashed toward Tim and grabbed his hand.

Tim threw Anne Marie an apologetic glance as he walked slowly toward the house.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about Tim,” Mel said, not hiding his irritation.

“About what, exactly?”

“Well, for one thing, he turns up far too often. Do the two you have a parenting plan?”

“Not…really.” At this point their agreement was pretty loose.

“That might be something to consider,” Mel said. “Tim seems to think he can come by anytime he pleases. For obvious reasons, that’s not a good idea.”

Anne Marie turned back to the house. She didn’t ask
what those obvious reasons were, but she had to admit Mel was probably right. However, she wasn’t in any mood to hear it. If she limited Tim’s access to Ellen, he’d assume she was punishing him because he wasn’t interested in her. “Can we talk about this later?”

Not waiting for his reply, she hurried inside. The instant she did, she was greeted by the sound of the girls giggling delightedly. Unable to resist, she had to look for herself.

Sure enough, Tim had taken on the role of the groom. He wore Ellen’s black velvet hair bow clipped to the top button of his shirt.

“We need a preacher,” Ellen said. “Mel, will you be the preacher?”

Mel shook his head. “Trust me, Ellen, I wouldn’t make a good preacher.” The ten-year-old’s face fell with disappointment.

“What about your mom?” April suggested.

“She can’t,” Ellen insisted. “Mom’s the bride.”

“Oh, right.”

Anne Marie opened her mouth to protest but no one noticed. Wasn’t
Ellen
the bride?
She
most definitely wasn’t willing to pretend to be Tim’s bride. “Hold on, you two—”

“I’ll be the preacher,” Ellen volunteered, ignoring Anne Marie.

“You’ll need a Bible.”

“Got it.” Ellen stood on tiptoe to get her children’s Bible from the top bookshelf.

“Can girls be preachers?” April sounded unsure of this.

“Girls can be anything they want,” Anne Marie as
sured her firmly. Despite her discomfort, she couldn’t let a comment like that pass unanswered.

“Even a firefighter?”

“Even a firefighter,” Anne Marie said.

Now that she’d resolved that issue, Anne Marie seemed to lose control of the situation. She was handed a plastic flower and the pillowcase was pinned to her hair as a makeshift veil. As the two girls hummed “Here Comes the Bride,” Anne Marie carefully marched down the aisle between the rows of books. Holding her Bible, Ellen went to stand in front of Tim. Mel remained in the background, looking disgruntled and ill at ease.

When Anne Marie reached Tim’s side, he tucked her arm in the crook of his, staring straight ahead. The best man had returned but clearly hadn’t understood his role. He stretched out on the floor, knocking over several “pews.” Iris, the maid of honor, peered out from under Ellen’s bed.

With great ceremony, Ellen opened the Bible. In formal tones she began, “Dearly beloved, we are gathered together this evening in the presence of God and these witnesses to join together—”

April leaned close to Ellen. “What’s
beloved
mean?” she asked.

“You can’t ask questions during the wedding,” Ellen told her friend.

“Okay. Sorry.” But April didn’t sound contrite.

Anne Marie quickly whispered the definition as Ellen frowned.

The ceremony took only a few minutes and by the time they’d finished Anne Marie and Tim both found themselves grinning. Ellen’s performance—complete with sweeping gestures—was worthy of an acting award.
Anne Marie had gradually relaxed enough to enjoy the charade.

The only person who didn’t appear the least bit entertained was Mel. He stood out in the hallway, wearing a frown.

Shortly after the “vows” were exchanged, Tim kissed Anne Marie on the cheek, then pulled out his wallet.

“What’s the money for?” Ellen asked when he removed a dollar bill.

“The groom always pays the preacher.”

Ellen raised her hand to stop him. “Give the money to the poor.”

“I’m poor,” April said, and held out her palm.

“No, you aren’t,” Ellen retorted. “Wedding planners make
lots
of money.”

“I guess you should put your money away,” Anne Marie said with a shrug.

Grinning, Tim did as she suggested. When he glanced up he apparently caught sight of Mel. “I’d better go.” He bent down to hug Ellen farewell.

“You need to thank your father,” Anne Marie said.

Ellen wrapped her arms around Tim’s neck. “Thank you again for fixing my bike and for being the groom and for everything,” she said in a breathless voice.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

“Can we go bike riding again soon?”

“Sure. I’ll set a time with your mother.”