“They’ll be here at three,” he said. He was apparently well-known in the gambling world. His initial failures, during their marriage, had made her angry and fearful. In her fear—and self-righteousness—Elise had preferred to think of him as living from hand to mouth. In reality, he’d become a success. But he didn’t encourage anyone else to choose the life he’d lived, and in fact, dissuaded others from becoming professional gamblers. In retrospect he wished he’d made a different choice.
Elise joined her husband in the living room and sat on the arm of his chair. He held her around the waist and sighed, his eyes closing. He was tired, she knew. A session of tests at the doctor’s office that day had drained him, but the most recent news had bolstered both their spirits. The progression of the leukemia had slowed considerably. They’d gotten a reprieve. Elise didn’t know how long this would continue, but she figured every single day with him was a blessing she hadn’t anticipated.
“Why don’t you take a nap before the game?” she suggested.
“I think I will.”
She slipped off the chair and sat across from him as Maverick lay back in the recliner. Reaching for her white wicker basket, Elise unfolded her pattern. She was knitting Maverick a lap robe for times like this. The needles made small clicking sounds. Comforting sounds.
They’d been together a year now, and not once had she regretted remarrying Maverick. Every day since then had been a honeymoon. She loved the way he loved their daughter and their grandchildren. He’d seen to Aurora’s future and David’s, and to those of Luke and John with trust funds.
The matter of Elise’s lawsuit had been resolved. A portion of her down payment had been refunded; it was more than she’d expected and less than she would’ve liked. The money she’d received was currently invested. That chapter of Elise’s life was closed, and she was grateful to have survived it financially.
She’d never told her knitting friends that Maverick was the one responsible for their good fortune. It’d been tempting, but she’d kept quiet. As Courtney described her beautiful dress and shared the details of the Homecoming dance and the visit with her sister—thanks to the generosity of her fairy godfather—Elise had listened and silently cheered. Tears had gathered in her eyes as she tried to remember each and every word so she could repeat it to Maverick.
The difference his gift had made to Bethanne was even more striking. She’d told Elise privately about the stranger who’d given her a head start on her business, and how much those few thousand dollars had meant to her. That money had changed everything and had come to her when she most needed it.
Bethanne had an impressive business vision. Elise wouldn’t be surprised by anything she undertook. A few years from now, Bethanne’s party business could well become a franchise. Her ideas were original, fresh, inventive. Maverick’s generosity had contributed to Bethanne’s success, and someday her friend would give a similar gift of money and encouragement to another struggling entrepreneur. Elise found pleasure and pride in knowing that.
Not once in all the weeks afterward had Bethanne breathed a word about the money to the women in the knitting group. That was just as well. If Bethanne had said something in addition to what Courtney had already mentioned, their friends might have figured it out. Maverick didn’t want any thanks or displays of appreciation; he preferred to remain anonymous, unacknowledged.
Elise smiled to herself as she continued knitting. She suspected Lydia knew. She’d never come right out and asked Elise, but she’d casually said one day that there seemed to be a fairy godfather at work in their group. Elise had tried to suggest it must’ve been Courtney’s dad, but Lydia just shook her head. Thankfully, she didn’t bring it up again. Elise didn’t want to mislead a woman she considered one of her best friends.
She heard the timer on the stove and set aside her knitting to check the cupcakes. Turning off the oven, she took out the muffin tin and placed it on a cooling rack. The scent of warm blueberries filled the kitchen. She intended to slather the cup-cakes with a cream cheese frosting and serve them to Maverick and his friends. Little did the “boys” realize how healthy these desserts were.
A half hour later, Maverick woke, looking noticeably rested. He glanced at his watch; the game would start in less than twenty minutes.
Predictably enough, the phone started to ring at three o’clock and Bart, the first of the boys, arrived. He was quickly followed by Al and Fred.
“Smells mighty good in here,” Bart said, sniffing the air. He winked at Elise. “No one bakes better’n you, no sir. I’ll bet those taste as good as they smell, too.”
Elise smiled at the blatant flattery. “I’ll see what I can do to make sure you get one, Bart.”
He grinned. “I do appreciate that, Mrs. Beaumont.”
Al and Fred weren’t far behind, staggering playfully toward the kitchen, led by their noses.
“You been baking again?” Al asked, hat in his hands, eyes comically wide.
Maverick shared a secret smile with her. “You’re spoiling my friends,” he murmured.
“Those for us poor old men?” Fred rubbed his hands together. “Us poor hungry old men…”
“Would you three stop it,” Elise said, halfheartedly attempting to hold in a laugh. “You know darn well I always bake on Tuesdays.”
Bart poked his elbow in Al’s ribs. “That’s the reason we’re here, remember?”
“I thought you came for the poker,” Maverick teased.
“That, too.”
Chuckling, they gathered around the kitchen table. Maverick pulled out a deck of cards and shuffled. Each one bought in for twenty dollars; the winner of the “tournament” took home the pot.
Within minutes, they were involved in their game. Elise frosted the cupcakes, then went back to her knitting. When the men had finished, she served coffee and cupcakes to the accompaniment of much praise and fulsome thanks.
Maverick caught her eye and she smiled at the man she loved. Her husband smiled back. Being in love did something for a woman, she decided. There was no feeling, no experience, to equal it.
CHAPTER 49
“Sock knitting teaches us to take one step at a time—cuff, heel, foot, toe—and not to be overwhelmed by the big picture.”
—Kathy Zimmerman, Kathy’s Kreations,
Ligonier, PA. www.kathys-kreations.com
LYDIA HOFFMAN
There’s a lull at the shop, and after a busy morning, I’ve decided to take a break in the office. Margaret will handle the customers while I put my feet up. It’s been rush, rush, rush all morning.
A Good Yarn is doing well—so well—and I’m grateful. I sometimes feel as if I’m living in a dream. I know I’m not, because the diamond on my finger sparkles and my heart is full of love for Brad and Cody. I’m quite possibly the happiest woman in the world. I’m engaged to marry the hand-so-mest, most wonderful man alive. Within a couple of months, I’ll be living with Brad and Cody and Chase. Whiskers, thankfully, tolerates Cody’s dog and will probably teach him some discipline.
I don’t think my life could get any better than it is right at this moment.
When I first opened the doors to A Good Yarn, it was my affirmation of life. Little did I realize, two years ago, what would happen and all the friends I would make. Jacqueline, Carol and Alix have become very dear to me. They were the three who gave me my start.
I’ve held several classes since the baby blanket class. All of them were good, but none of those relationships matched the closeness I felt with my first three students. Until recently, with the sock class. That was when Elise, Bethanne and Courtney entered the shop and my life. I didn’t think it was possible to feel as close to another class as I did my original one, but again life has taught me a valuable lesson.
I recall how difficult Elise was that first day, fretting over her ex-husband’s coming visit. And Bethanne, with her self-esteem shattered by her divorce, and Courtney, a lonely, over-weight teenager struggling with a loss of her o
wn. The four of us connected through knitting—who would’ve thought a pair of socks could change your life? I treasure each one of these women as a true friend, the same way I do Jacqueline, Carol and Alix.
Then there’s my sister. I never thought the day would come when I’d claim my sister as my very best friend. Well, that day has arrived. We’re closer now than at any other time in our lives. And that special understanding started when she first came to work at the shop.
My sister and I are sharing the responsibility of looking after Mom. Her health is declining rapidly and I suspect we won’t have her with us much longer. That makes each day we have her all the more precious. She’s still lonely without Dad, still a bit lost.
Both Margaret and I work hard at keeping her busy. We make sure she has lots of small things to look forward to each week—a visit, an outing, shopping, a new book. Anything that we know will bring her joy.
Mom is knitting more and Margaret’s been picking her up on Friday afternoons so she can join the other women who do charity knitting. She enjoys these occasions and feels part of the knitting community. My mother is a fast knitter and she’s contributed enough patches to make an entire blanket for Warm Up America, plus another for the Linus Project. I think Dad would be very pleased to see the three of us working together, knitting.
I’ve been so caught up in my thoughts that Margaret’s standing directly in front of me before I notice her. “I’m leaving to pick up Mom,” she announces.
“Great.” I lower my feet. I’m generally not this tired on a Friday morning, but Brad, Cody and I were at a Mariners’ playoff game last night and it went into extra innings. I didn’t get to bed until after midnight and had to be up early to meet with a yarn sales rep. Brad and Cody, my two sweethearts, are real baseball fans and I’ve learned to love the game, so it wasn’t any sacrifice to be out so late.
Soon after Margaret’s departure, Elise comes into the shop, carrying her knitting. The changes in Elise since she remarried Maverick would make anyone a believer in marriage! She’s so much more relaxed now and genuinely happy.
I’ve pretty much figured out that Maverick was our fairy godfather, although I’ve never asked her directly and she hasn’t volunteered the information.
“Where’s Maverick?” I ask. He almost always accompanies Elise on Fridays. I’ve purchased a special chair for him, so he can read while the rest of us knit and talk. Maverick’s face might be hidden behind a book, but he’s listening. He always was a good listener, or so Elise tells me. Each one of us has more or less adopted Maverick. I know his condition is stable, and although we’re all pleased by that, we worry, too. His immune system has been compromised by the treatments. But Elise is taking good care of him. Those two are so happy together, so accepting of each other. It almost seems that love is what they’re living on now.
“He’s parking the car,” Elise says. “He’ll be along shortly.”
“How is he?” I ask.
“Doing really well.” From the look in her eyes I know she’s telling the truth, and I’m relieved. “Bethanne’s here, too, and I saw Jacqueline and Carol over at the French Café, chatting with Alix. I imagine they won’t be long.”
“Great.”
A small package had arrived from Courtney earlier in the week, with several patches for the Warm Up America blanket we’re currently working on. She has a whole group of girls in her dorm knitting now. Inside was a long letter that I plan to read to the entire group.
According to Bethanne, Courtney keeps in touch with Annie and Andrew. It’ll be interesting to see if Courtney and Andrew can maintain a long-distance relationship. I know Bethanne has encouraged both of them to date others and I believe they do. Above all, they’re good friends; I hope they stay friends.
Speaking of Bethanne, I don’t see her as often as I’d like. We’re all so proud of her. And not just because of her success with the business, either. Let me add that she’s planning Brad’s and my wedding, and I wouldn’t trust that to anyone else.
No, the real reason for my pride in her is the way she’s virtually reinvented herself, the way she’s found confidence, in herself and in others. As I remember it, she didn’t even sign up for the class on her own. Her daughter made the phone call on her behalf.
And I feel that we in the class—but especially Elise—can take some of the credit for encouraging that transformation.
The bell rings above the door and Brad strolls into the shop. We see each other nearly every day now that the date for the wedding’s been set. Alix has volunteered to bake the cake and Jacqueline insists we have the reception at the country club, but Bethanne is the one organizing it all. Margaret has agreed to be my matron of honor, and I have six bridesmaids. Six! It wasn’t hard to decide who I wanted to stand up with me—my dearest friends. My knitting friends.
“Hello, gorgeous,” Brad greets me, wheeling his cart with an expert hand. “How are you this beautiful afternoon?”
I smile back. Fine, I tell him. Better than fine. Happy and very much in love with him and with life in the shop on Blossom Street.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-0081-8
A GOOD YARN
Copyright © 2005 by Debbie Macomber.
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, MIRA Books, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
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