“Jordan.” She said his name on a single lengthy breath. “It’s beautiful.”
“I thought so, too.”
“But…why?”
“Didn’t I just remind you it’s been a year since we linked up?”
“Yes, I know, but…” If he made her cry Alix didn’t think she’d forgive him.
“Try it on.”
She slipped it out and placed it on her finger. The fit was perfect.
“It’s official now,” Jordan said.
“What is?”
“You and me.”
She wanted to tell him she didn’t need a ring—however lovely—to prove that. But she only smiled.
“Next year for our anniversary,” he continued, “after you’ve graduated from cooking school, I’d like to replace that with a diamond engagement ring. What would you think?”
The tears did come then. “I think that’d be just fine,” she whispered. “Now would you stop this car so I can show you how damn much I love you?”
“That,” said Jordan, “can be arranged.”
CHAPTER 51
“To learn to knit you need beginner’s hands and a beginner’s mind. Knitting is a hobby. Breathe, relax and have fun.”
—Donna Druchunas, SheeptoShawl.com
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.”