The Shop on Blossom Street (29 page)

LYDIA HOFFMAN

I
t’s hard to believe that A Good Yarn’s been open for a year. I’ve decided to hold my first—and, I hope, annual—yarn sale. Margaret, who works part-time for me now, created the flyers and the signs. My sister has an artistic bent, although she’s quick to deny it.

This has certainly been an eventful year. My business has prospered and I’ve achieved every goal I set for my first year, plus some. My class list has grown. My original three class members are still with me and we share a deep bond. We’re friends. Our Friday afternoon sessions are an ongoing social event—with knitting. I’m holding other classes, too. My inventory doubled in the last twelve
months and continues to grow, although space is becoming a problem. Brad has been wonderful and together with Matt, my brother-in-law, has constructed shelves to hold the newer yarns I’ve made available to my customers.

One morning this week, I was sitting at my desk, dealing with long-overdue paperwork. I glanced into the shop where Margaret was busy tending an early customer; just seeing her made me treasure my business all the more. I’m so grateful I took this giant step in faith. A Good Yarn is everything I dreamed it would be. I hardly think of it as coming to work because it’s such a joy to do what I love and to be able to share my passion for knitting with others.

My father is the one I thank for giving me the courage to move forward with my life. His death taught me such valuable lessons. I suppose the irony is that his death taught me about life. I’d come to depend on him, but in this last year I’ve learned to draw upon the inner strength he instilled in me. I suppose it’s fanciful to think he’s smiling down on me, but I do.

That smile of my father’s would include Margaret. My sister and I have come a long way in repairing our relationship. We’ve grown steadily closer, first as sisters and then as friends. A year ago, if anyone had told me that my sister and I would be working side by side in my yarn store, I would’ve keeled over in a dead faint. Margaret and me—oh, hardly. And yet that’s exactly what we’re doing.

Margaret started filling in for me while I was going through my most recent scare with cancer last year. Dr. Wilson wasn’t giving the cancer a chance to recur, and while the treatment wasn’t as aggressive as the chemotherapy and radiation I’d endured in the past, it was aggressive enough. It was often necessary for me to take a day
off, so Margaret, with her limited experience, helped me out. How grateful I am to my sister. She was more familiar with crocheting than knitting when she started, but in recent months, she’s mastered knitting, too. Now she’s as much a part of the store as I am, and the customers have warmed to her. Margaret will never be a spontaneous sort of person, but she’s excellent at sales and I’m proud to have her as an employee. Mom is pleased with our new relationship, too.

Perhaps the biggest change in my life, however, is Brad and Cody. We’re together as much as our schedules will allow, and I’ve fallen deeply in love with this special man and with his son.

“The flyers are back from the printer,” Margaret said, stepping into my tiny office and interrupting my thoughts. “When would you like me to get them to the mailing service?”

I looked up from my desk. “Today if possible.”

She nodded. “I can do that.”

“Thanks.” I wanted her to know how much I appreciated everything she did for me. “I owe you so much, Margaret.”

She shook off my praise, as I knew she would. My gratitude seemed to embarrass her. “Are you sure you’re up to the Mariners game tonight?” At times, although they were increasingly rare, Margaret fell into that protective older-sister mode.

“I’m perfectly fine,” I said, letting her know I was capable of judging my own limits. In any case, I had no intention of disappointing Brad and Cody. We’d had tickets for this game against the San Diego Padres for weeks.

“Good.”

“What about you, Matt, Mom and the girls? You’ll be there, too, won’t you?”

“Of course!” Margaret’s eyes widened. “We wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

“As long as you’re up to it,” I teased.

She ignored that and craned her neck to look out the front windows. “Our favorite UPS delivery man just pulled up.”

Five minutes later, Brad entered the shop, whistling as he rolled in the stack of boxes, filled with my latest shipment of yarn.

“Mornin’, Margaret,” he said as he handed her the clipboard.

My sister signed her name and Brad came to the back to see me.

“Hey, beautiful.”

I always blush when Brad talks to me like that. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to his love. I’m the luckiest woman alive. Brad and I have talked about marriage, but I’m the one dragging my feet. I had to be sure first—not about loving him, because I do. No, I had to be sure about the cancer. I’m safe for now, and the future’s like a blank page waiting for a story to be written on it. Or a ball of yarn waiting to be knit…

I love Brad and Cody. I’ve worked hard to establish a good relationship with Brad’s son. His mother and I have talked a number of times; she loves her son, but she’s concentrating on her own needs just now. The funny part is, she seems grateful to me for stepping in.

Still, life doesn’t hold any guarantees. Brad and I have talked about this often, and I’m ready to accept his proposal. I know that’s what I want.

Brad tucked his arms around my waist. “You’re looking mighty kissable this morning.”

I smiled and kissed him, letting my mouth linger on his. I didn’t often let our kisses get this involved, especially
during business hours. Yet there are moments when it’s easy to forget where we are.

“To what do I owe this?” he asked in a husky whisper close to my ear.

“It’s just because I love you,” I told him.

“I love you, too.”

I gave his backside a friendly pat. “See you tonight—and don’t forget, you’re buying the hot dogs and peanuts.”

“You got it, sweetheart.”

He left the shop and I stood next to Margaret as I watched him walk away. “He’s one of the good guys,” my sister said.

“Yes, I know.”

“Are you going to marry him?”

I eyed Margaret, wondering what she’d say when she learned I’d made my decision. “Yes.”

She gave me a wide smile. “It’s about time.”

“Yup, I figure it is. I love him. And you know what the real bonus is? Brad and I can laugh together.”

My sister was still grinning. “Life sure has a way of keeping you in stitches.”

I don’t think she meant the pun, but I couldn’t help agreeing.