Knitting Under the Influence

  “Hello?”

  “Oh, good, there you are,” Kathleen said. “Kevin proposed to me. Just now, over breakfast. One second we were talking about real estate and the next he was asking me to marry him.”

  “Whoa!” Sari said. “You're kidding!”

  “I’m really not.”

  “So did you say yes?”

  “Why?” Kathleen said. “Do you think I should?”

  “Don't ask me Haven't you answered him yet?”

  “I said I needed a minute to think about it.” Kathleen leaned against the locked door. “You have to tell me what to do, Sari. Should I say yes or no? Or maybe? I think I could put him off for a while without completely discouraging him—”

  “God, Kathleen, I don't know! I can't decide for you. Do you love him? Do you want to marry him?”

  “I don't know. How do people know something like that for surer?”

  “Why are you asking me?” Sari said. “Me, of all people? I’ve never been proposed to. I don't even have a boyfriend. Ask someone who's married.”

  “You're the only person I trust. Come on, Sari, help me out.”

  “If you really want my advice, I think you should ask him to wait. Tell him you love him but you're not sure yet whether you're ready to settle down. Buy yourself some time.”

  “Okay,” Kathleen said. “That's a good idea. Thanks. How was dinner at your parents’?”

  “It was horrible.”

  “What happened?”

  Sari laughed. “Kathleen, somewhere not far from you there's a man waiting to hear whether the girl of his dreams is going to marry him or not. Do you really want to hear about my miserable Thanksgiving?”

  “Yes. I really do.”

  “Then call me later. I feel for Kevin, even if you don't.”

  When she came back to the table, Kevin was half turned in his chair, watching for her. The waitress had brought their food, but he hadn't taken a bite.

  “So?” he said, trying to keep his voice casual. “Any decisions?”

  “Not yet.” She slid into her chair and took a deep breath. “Here's the thing … I think I probably do want to marry you. But I’m not ready to say it for sure. Not yet.”

  He reached around the plates for her hand and squeezed it. “I know. I sprang this on you pretty suddenly. I mean, I was up all night thinking about it, but for you, it's been all of five minutes.”

  “I probably just have to get used to the idea. I’ve been single all my life, you know.”

  “Glad to hear it,” he said. There was a pause. Then, “Want to go to Hawaii with me?”

  She laughed. “You're full of offers today. When were you thinking?”

  “Now. This afternoon. My parents’ house is right on the beach and the walls on the ocean side are all glass so it's just you and the ocean and the waves. We'd be all alone there—no families, no work, nothing but each other and the most beautiful beach in the world. It's a good place to think about things. And make decisions.” He pressed the back of her hand to his lips. “What do you say, Kath? Will you come with me?”

  “How could I say no to that?”

  “You can't.” He kissed her hand one more time before releasing it. “And do you know what the waiting period is for a marriage license in Hawaii?”

  “No. What?”

  He grinned. “There isn't one.”

  VIII

  Lucy and Sari met at Sari's apartment on Sunday, because ‘Sari refused to go to Lucy's now that she had a cat.

  “I can't believe it,” Lucy said, once they were settled with their coffee and knitting. “I just can't believe it. That she's in Hawaii right now with one of the richest bachelors in the country, trying to decide whether or not to marry him.”

  “I know,” Sari said. “Only Kathleen.”

  “And meanwhile I’m stuck here, trying to figure out what to do with my remaining six skeins of green yarn.”

  “That's not enough to make much of anything other than a scarf,” Sari said. “Couldn't you salvage any of the yarn you ripped out?”

  “It got all curly and stretched out,” Lucy said.

  “I think there's a way to fix that.”

  “Plus I threw it down the trash chute.”

  “That's a bigger problem.” Sari knit another row while Lucy leafed through a knitting book she had brought with her.

  “It's hard to start something else,” Lucy said after looking at a bunch of patterns. “I was so excited about knitting a sweater for James and now look what happened. It was all a big fat waste of time. It's ruined knitting for me forever— Ooo, that's cute!” She showed Sari a knit hat that had bands of different colors and a narrow brim, and they both exclaimed over it.

  “Why don't you make that?” Sari said. “It wouldn't take long. You could do it just in that green—no stripes.”

  “But I don't wear hats,” Lucy said.

  “Maybe you should start. It seems like a good time to try something new.”

  “The way things are going, if I try to knit a hat, my head will get cut off.”

  “You're fun to be with today,” Sari said.

  “I can't help it.” Lucy flung the book aside. “We're stuck here and meanwhile Kathleen's lying on a beach somewhere in Hawaii, drinking pina coladas and probably having her butt massaged or something decadent like that. Why does she always get to be the lucky one?”

  “Bet she's engaged by now,” Sari said.

  “No way. She would have called us.”

  “No, because it's three hours earlier there, right? They probably went out for a late dinner last night, and then Kevin asked her to go for a walk on the beach and then he told her she owed him an answer and maybe even got down on his knees and pulled out a ring and—”

  “I still think she'd call.”

  “But it would have been like one in the morning there when it all happened,” Sari said. “Four a.m. here. And besides, once she said yes, they had to go back and immediately have sex, right? You've got to figure engagement sex is amazing.”

  “You seem sure she said yes.”

  “Of course she said yes. You don't say no when someone proposes to you on a moonlit beach in Hawaii, Lucy. Anyway, the point is they probably had sex and fell asleep.” She gestured at the wall clock. “It's still only eight in the morning there. She wouldn't even be waking up until around now. But as soon as she wakes up—”

  The phone rang. The girls looked at each other and cracked up. “You can't be that right,” Lucy said. “No one is that right.”

  “We'll see,” Sari said. She dropped her knitting and ran for the phone. “Hello?” Then: “Oh, wow. I didn't expect it to be you. Hi. What's going on there?”

  “Who?” Lucy said. She had crept up to Sari's side and was desperately trying to hear what was being said. “Who is it? Who? Is it Kathleen?”

  Sari held her off with the palm of her hand. “Wow, that's great!” she said. “I’m so excited for you! Congratulations!”

  “What? What's great? What's exciting?” Lucy said.

  “When? You're kidding. But—” A long period of time while the other person talked and then Sari said, “Yeah, it would be amazing. I totally want to. It's just … Well, hold on—let me ask Lucy.” She punched the hold button and looked at Lucy. “You won't believe this.”

  Lucy groaned. “Will you just tell me?”

  “It's Kevin. He proposed and Kathleen accepted, just like we thought. But she doesn't know he's calling us—he snuck off to call because he wants to fly us to Hawaii first thing tomorrow as a surprise for her. Because they're going to get married there in two days! Can you believe it?”

  Lucy sank into a chair. “Holy shit.”

  “He said if he flew her family out, his family might feel hurt, and he doesn't want to get into any of that, but he knows she'd want us to be there with her. There's a nine a.m. flight tomorrow, gets us in at noon, and the wedding would be the next day. We could take the red-eye back that night and only miss two days of work
.”

  “This is unreal,” Lucy said.

  “I know! So what do you say, Luce? Should we do it?” She shook the phone at her. “I have to give him an answer. He's waiting.”

  “What are you talking about?” Lucy said. “Of course we're going. We have to go.”

  “What about work?”

  “Fuck work,” Lucy said.

  “Yeah,” Sari said. “Fuck work.” She punched the hold button again. “Kevin?” she said. “We're in.”

  After she'd hung up, she looked at Lucy. “Fuck knitting, too,” she said. “Don't we need new clothes for Hawaii?”

  “We do,” Lucy said. “We do we do we do.”

  IX

  When Lucy walked into her apartment several hours later, something felt wrong. It took her a moment to figure out what it was: David hadn't come warily prowling in to greet her, like he always did when she came home these days. She called for him and he still didn't come. She dropped everything she was carrying and went from room to room, calling him.

  No David.

  Lucy searched through the apartment again. This time, she got down on her hands and knees to look under sofas and tables. She even threw in a few high-pitched “Here kitty-kitty-kitties” just for the hell of it. No David.

  She felt suddenly really worried. The kitten had recently become curious about the bigger world outside and, several times over the past few days, he had gone darting out the door when she opened it, scooting between her legs and around her feet. She always chased him down and brought him back, but it was possible he'd snuck out that morning when she'd left, without her even noticing. Which would mean he'd been out of the apartment—maybe even out of the building—wandering alone for over three hours.

  “Shit,” she said out loud and ran into the apartment corridor and then down the stairs and out into the street, calling and running, searching desperately for a tiny kitten who had gone missing in a very big, very dangerous world.

  “I can't find David,” she said into the phone half an hour later.

  “The cat or the lab partner?” Sari asked.

  “This isn't funny. I got back from knitting and he was gone. Sari, I’m worried he got out of the building and is lost somewhere.”

  “Did you look outside?”

  “I went around the whole block. I can't find him anywhere.”

  “I’m sorry, honey,” Sari said. “But cats usually find their way home, don't they?”

  “Big cats do,” Lucy said. “Big grown-up cats who've lived for a long time in one place and who have sharp claws and can defend themselves against any danger—they find their way home. But little tiny kittens who haven't even been in the world very long—”

  “Don't start imagining the worst.”

  “Too late.”

  “Well, then, stop imagining the worst. I’m sure he'll come back.”

  “Are you really sure or are you just trying to get me off the phone?”

  “A little of both, actually,” Sari said. “I’m sorry, Lucy, but I’m overwhelmed with everything I have to do if I want to be able to leave tomorrow. I can't just disappear—I need to find replacements for all the kids I see. So I’m sort of losing my mind right now. But I honestly think David the kitten—being the most amazingly wonderful and brilliant kitten in the world—will find his way back to your side safe and sound before the end of the day.”

  “Yeah, whatever,” Lucy said. “Go do your stuff. I’ll see you in the morning.” She hung up the phone and stared at it miserably for a minute. Then she got up off the bed and went through the apartment and opened the front door and called for David again. Then she went back into the apartment and called for him some more. Then she went out of the apartment and down the stairs to the street and called for him some more. Then she went back into the apartment and checked inside the stove and all the cabinets in the kitchen. Then she got out a suitcase and opened her underwear drawer and stared at its contents without seeing them for a minute or two. Then she got up and opened the front door and called for David.

  “This is insane,” she said out loud. She picked up the phone again.

  There was no answer at David's apartment, but she waited, knowing it would ring through to his cell. “Hey,” he said once it had, “what's up?”

  “The kittens missing,” she said. “I can't find him anywhere. I think maybe he got out this morning, which means he's been gone for hours.”

  “Oh, shit,” he said. Then, “Well, at least it's not dark. The coyotes shouldn't be out yet.”

  “Thanks,” she said. “Thanks for bringing up coyotes. Where are you?”

  “Having coffee.”

  “With someone?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Oh,” she said. “I was hoping—I mean, I was thinking—that maybe you could come help me look—but you're busy, so—”

  “I’ll be there in ten,” he said and hung up.

  It was closer to twenty, but Lucy didn't complain.

  “I looked around the block,” David said as she let him in. “No surprise reappearance here, I assume?”

  Lucy shook her head. She suddenly didn't trust herself to speak. At the sight of David's familiar, slightly homely face, she was overwhelmed with the desire to burst into tears. She fought it desperately. But it must have shown, because he said, “Don't worry, Lucy. He'll turn up. Cats have a way of being okay. This is where that whole nine lives thing really comes into play.”

  Lucy nodded but couldn't manage a smile. “He's so little,” she said. “He's so little and I was responsible for him.”

  “Come on.” He put his arms around her and she rested her head against his shoulder. “You're being silly. He's a cat. Cats always escape. And they always come back.”

  “Unless a coyote gets them. Or a car hits them. Or—”

  “Someone sells them to evil scientists to experiment on?”

  She pushed him away. “That's not funny.”

  “It's a little bit funny.”

  “I’m not in the mood for jokes.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “No more jokes. Let's focus. Is your phone number on his ID tag?”

  “He doesn't have one. I kept forgetting. I was at Petco a million times, but I just kept forgetting, but if I’d only just gotten him one … I’m such a fucking idiot!” And with that, she finally burst into the tears that had been threatening to break through for the last half hour.

  “Come here.” David steered her to the sofa and pushed her down on it. Then he sat next to her and took her hand. “Take a deep breath, Lucy, and calm down. The guy's only been missing a few hours. Cats often vanish for days and then reappear. He's going to come back. But we might as well do what we can to help. Do you have any photos of him? We could put them up somewhere.”

  “I didn't have any batteries in my camera,” Lucy said, extricating her hand so she could use her knuckle to wipe away the tears under her eyes. “I tried to take his picture—I wanted to—but I didn't have any batteries and I kept forgetting to get new ones.”

  “You need some help running your life,” David said.

  “I know,” she said with a sob.

  “Whoa there,” David said. “I was joking. And this isn't even close to calming down.”

  “I can't help it.”

  “Come here,” he said, and pulled her so her face was against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and she shoved her forehead hard into his shoulder and let herself go.

  Interestingly, once she gave in to her tears, they didn't last all that long. She trembled and hiccupped and sniffed for a few minutes, while David rubbed her back and made soothing sounds. Even when the tears had stopped, she didn't move for a while, just stayed where she was, her cheek pressed against his shirt.

  After a little while like that, she said, “I can hear your heart beat.”

  “Interesting,” he said. “Would you say it's got a hip reggae kind of a beat?”

  “It just sounds normal to me. Tha-boomp, tha-boomp.” A pau
se. Then: “I need a tissue.”

  “You've been doing pretty well with my shirt up till now.”

  “Sorry.” She righted herself, embarrassed. “Hold on. Let me go wash my face.”

  In the bathroom, she splashed cold water on her face and toweled off. There was a bottle of suntan lotion on the vanity, and it occurred to her she shouldn't even go to Hawaii if David stayed missing—she'd need to stay and keep looking for him. And even if she did find him, she'd have to get someone to take care of him while she was gone. She hadn't even thought about that before. She was a bad, bad pet owner.

  When she came back out, David was sitting at her computer. “I found a Web site about missing pets. They say the first thing you should do is check with all your neighbors.”

  “I don't know my neighbors,” Lucy said. “I’ve never even met them. Oh, except for the time I yelled at the people downstairs for making too much noise.”

  “How long have you lived here?”

  “Four years.”

  David shook his head with a laugh. “You might want to work on your people skills, Lucy.”

  “Do you think we should go talk to them?”

  “It can't hurt.”

  She liked that he didn't question her use of “we,” just stood up and joined her at the door.

  “I know this may sound selfish at a time like this, but I’m really hungry,” David said when they returned to the apartment a while later, having checked in with all the neighbors who were home—no one had seen the cat—and searched around the block one more time. “How about we order in a pizza while we make some flyers? I can post them when I leave.”

  “Yeah, okay,” Lucy said. She felt disoriented and dazed. The sun was setting and she still hadn't found the cat and the thought of eventually trying to go to sleep for the night knowing he was out there alone somewhere—or dead somewhere—was so awful she couldn't even think about it.

  “What kind do you like?” David asked.

  “Kind?”

  “Of pizza.”

  “Oh. I don't care.”

  “Is there something else you'd rather eat?”