How to Knit a Love Song (7 page)
Thirty minutes later, still picking bits of fluff out of her hair, Abigail walked into the restaurant.
“Darling! You’re here! I can’t believe it. Sit here, I’ve already ordered for both of us.”
Janet
always
ordered for both of them. Abigail had long since stopped minding, since Janet always ordered her something good, often something she wouldn’t have ordered otherwise.
“No, Abigail, I really mean it. I can’t believe you actually moved here, to my neck of the woods. God knows I’m only an hour and a half away from San Francisco, but still. No one ever comes to see me, let alone moves to be near me.”
“Did it all for you.”
“You lie. But you’re sweet. And it’s going to be so easy to boss you around now.”
Abigail laughed. “I don’t think you’ve ever really had any problem doing that, have you? Besides, now that I don’t work for you, you can’t.”
“I will, too! And you should still write a little pattern up for me when you can. My customers would love it…And you know I’m good at bossing everyone. Ask that terrified waiter over by the door. I only wanted more lemon but I think he thought I was going to eat him.”
Janet was extremely tall and even more striking. She had jet-black hair with one carefully styled white stripe, and she favored clothing with jet buttons and long tassels. She still wore hats in a 1940s way to match her purse and shoes. While her style was dated, she made it work in a way that the twenty-somethings scouring the vintage stores couldn’t. She was near fifty, but no one knew how near. She was loud and sometimes merciless and, underneath it all, very kind. Abigail adored her in a way she didn’t adore her friends closer to her own age. They were compatriots, whereas Janet was more than that; she had already walked through the fire and now laughed at the heat.
“When I met you, I thought you were going to eat
me
.”
“Darling, I would have. I just wanted to gobble you up. You, knitting so seriously, before anyone else was. At least you knew good cashmere.” Janet trailed a gloved hand in the air as she laughed.
“That’s because you imported the best.”
“But I only imported clothing until you asked me for yarn. I thought you were insane, to pay that much for clothing that didn’t even exist! That you had to make yourself!”
“It was worth it though. You’ve made a fortune, selling my patterns and the yarns to the knitters.”
“Yes, of course, but I didn’t know that was coming. You were ahead of your time, designing those cute clothes, the sweaters that people actually wanted to wear, sexy little knitted camisoles and sassy hats, things that people wouldn’t hide in the back of their closets. You came along and took the knitting world by storm.”
“It’s a small world.”
“Not anymore, it isn’t, and you’re the queen of them all.”
“Eliza was the queen. I’m only a courtier still.”
Janet’s face softened. “I’m so sorry. I barely got to see you at the funeral.”
“It was a busy day.” Abigail traced the pattern on the handle of her knife with the tip of her finger.
“And now you’re living in Eliza’s old home. How is it? Are you all right?”
The waiter, looking rather cowed, set elaborate salads in front of them. Janet looked at them, opened her mouth as if to speak, then nodded. The waiter’s look of relief was obvious.
“Blue cheese. Best dressing here.”
“Fine.” Abigail took a bite.
Janet had moved to the central coast after a nasty divorce that occurred in the higher echelons of the fashion industry. Her husband ended up getting the Rodeo Drive storefront she had sold many bolts of cloth and skeins of luxury fiber to buy, and the divorce had been difficult emotionally and financially. Janet moved and started her own online business, something that made her more money now than the store ever had. People whispered that she was a self-made millionaire, but Abigail loved best that the sadness had left Janet’s face.
“You’ve been here for how long now?”
Janet sighed. “Five years.”
“That long! It feels like a minute ago.”
“I know. And Bill still thinks I won’t make it. You know, he was begging to use my name in a new deal he was trying to set up. Obviously, I said no. He sent a note, saying he couldn’t believe I’d forget him like I apparently have.” She giggled. “I sent a card back asking him to clarify where I knew him from.”
“I love it. And are you seeing anyone?”
“Oh, sweetie. I see people all the time. No one special. There’s one man, Richard, but he’s too recently divorced to have sex without crying, and it’s getting tiresome. What about you, though? Whatever happened to that one? Teddy, was it?”
Abigail laughed. “Teddy. He suited his name; he was a doll. But he was in love with me.”
“Nothing wrong with that.”
Abigail reached into her purse and pulled out her knitting.
“What do you have? Anything good?” Janet peered greedily.
“Just a sleeve.” Abigail waved the two circulars in the air. “And no, there wasn’t anything wrong with him being in love, if I’d been in love back. But I wasn’t. I really, really tried, though. He was perfect for me.” Abigail shrugged. “I don’t think I’m the falling-in-love type.”
Janet reached out to feel the russet yarn. “Yum. Tell me?”
“My own handspun merino.”
“And it’s going to be…”
“You never give up. It’s going to be a man’s sweater.”
“For a new book? Or is this personal? Or better yet, for me?”
“Come on. I don’t have a man to knit for. I’ll write the pattern up if I like it.”
Janet pointed her salad fork at Abigail. “Good. Keep knitting. And don’t give me that crap. Of course you’re the falling-in-love type. Everyone is, when we get right down to it. What about Jim? Now, that was love.”
“You’re right. That was. I was down for the count on that one. Only came up to find my bank account empty and my computer gone, with the only copy of my manuscript on it.”
Janet groaned. “God, I’d forgotten. That was horrifying.”
“It sure was stupid, huh? But you fixed it for me.”
“I wish you could have seen the look on Jim’s face when he opened the door to find me and Mafia Tony on the doorstep.”
“Your
driver
does look like a mob boss.”
“He loves playing the part when I need him to. Jim positively gibbered as he ran to get the computer. Sobbed as he handed it over.”
Abigail grimaced and checked to make sure her seed stitch was still lined up correctly. “Never saw so much porn in my life as when I opened it up. I put the book on a disc and then wiped the hard drive. I had to take a shower afterward. So much for love. But at least now I back up my work.”
“And that other one? Oh, I can’t think of his name.”
Abigail gripped the needles tighter than she needed to. “There wasn’t anyone else.”
“Yes, there was. That dark-haired guy you told me about, that you met at ABA. Remember? Asked for your number and you actually gave it to him.”
Abigail yanked one of the circular needles too hard, and a dozen stitches slipped off the needle. “Shit.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“I know something happened. Tell me.” Janet leaned forward again. “I can send Tony to San Diego in a heartbeat.”
“I didn’t want to tell you.”
“Did he hurt you?” Janet bristled like a threatened cat.
“I didn’t give him the chance.”
“That’s my girl.”
Abigail leaned her head back and stared up at the multiple broad-bladed ceiling fans. They all moved at the same relaxed pace, the opposite of what her mind was doing. She wasn’t going to talk about it to anyone. But Janet was different.
“He was at ABA because his sister wrote some animal book. I thought that was cool, that he was supporting her like that. He called and asked me out, and I met him at his company’s boat at the marina. It was a perfectly romantic first date.”
Janet nodded.
“He got weird at the end of the night. Insisted that he see me the next day. But I had plans and told him no. He didn’t like it.”
“Creepy. Go on.”
Abigail finally got the last errant stitch back onto the left needle. She didn’t have to look at her work to knit, but she kept her eyes down as she went on.
“Turns out he followed me home that night. Kinda went downhill from there.”
“You should have told me.”
“I was embarrassed.”
“Did he try anything?”
“Only once, but I handled it.” Abigail felt strong as she said it, but her voice wobbled at the end, and she was horrified to feel her eyes filling with tears.
Janet was up and out of her seat before Abigail knew what was happening. Then she was wrapped in Janet’s perfumed arms. “I’m so sorry.”
Janet kissed Abigail’s forehead. Other restaurant customers watched in interest. “So it’s over?”
“I’m here, aren’t I?”
“Did you press charges?”
“Oh, yeah. He has a warrant out now, and he hasn’t been seen since, not even at his job. They think he fled the state. That and the fact he has no idea where I am make me feel better about it all.”
Abigail smiled at her. She wouldn’t worry Janet anymore. “I’m safe now. And all that, to say no, I have not found love.”
“You’ll find it, my darling. Look at me! I’m all wrinkled up and I find it all the time!”
“Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”
Janet laughed. “Oh, I’m glad you’re here! Was it hard to leave?”
“No, you know I hated that apartment. So close to the freeway, so loud. I got rid of everything, put it all up on Craigslist. Had a virtual garage sale. I only brought what I love. Didn’t take up much space, actually. I feel freer than I have in a long time.”
“I knew Eliza’s old place was out here somewhere, but I never thought that anything would happen like this. How are you doing? Are you overwhelmed? What did she leave you, exactly?”
“Her cottage. And the land it’s on. And everything in it.”
“Wow! I knew she loved you, but damn. Is her nephew that gorgeous boy, the tall one who looks like every girl’s fantasy walking?”
“Do you know him? Cade?”
“Cade, that’s it. I know
of
him. A friend of mine dated him last year, until he broke it off.”
“Really?”
“She was crushed. I remember hating him and then she pointed him out at a restaurant—he was there with another woman, and they’d been broken up for a month by this point, I thought he was a slice of heaven. Worth a broken heart, that one.”
“How long did they date?” Abigail felt a keen interest that she decided not to examine.
“I think only a month or two.” Janet leaned forward across the table. “She said the sex was amazing. But that doesn’t surprise me. He looks like sex on a stick. Or on a horse. Or in the sticks. Whatever quaint phrase they use out here.”
“These aren’t really the sticks anymore, I don’t think.”
“They’ll always be the sticks, darling. But they’re
my
sticks. So anyway, the sex was amazing, and she said she was
tres
smitten, and she dreamed of a ring and wearing bandanas at the wedding. Then he pulled the hay out from under her, and she was left crying on my doorstep. Isn’t that just the way?”
“I can see it. He’s seems, rather…callous.”
“Mmm. Do I sense a note of interest, my little one?”
“Absolutely not. The opposite, in fact. I don’t like him at all. But I have to live with him for a while.”
Janet waved away a water refill and leaned in again. “This just got good. What do you mean?”
“I got the cottage, but it has no water.”
“How awful.”
“And it might have rats.”
Janet went pale. “Darlin,…”
“It for damn sure has bats.”
“Abigail! You can’t live there.”
“You’re right, I can’t live there until it’s cleaned out and fixed up, and then it’ll be just fine. Wonderful, even. But I have no idea how long that’s going to take. In the meantime, I’m living in Cade’s house.”
“Tremendous.” Janet clapped her hands. “Fantastic!”
“Do you think so?” Abigail paused and knit a few stitches. “I mean, Cade, he may be the local heartbreaker and all, but…”
She didn’t need to put it into words. Janet said, her voice soft, “Cade is just a good old local boy who looks good in his jeans. He may break hearts, but he’d never hurt anyone. I’ve dated three of the local deputies: I’d know if he was a bad guy. And he’s Eliza’s nephew.”
Abigail nodded. “That’s what I thought. All right, change of subject. I’ve found something today, in the cottage.”
“Tell. Ropes and chains?”
“It’s a gigantic mess, totally crammed full of stuff that looked like trash. Boxes everywhere. But the boxes are full of fiber and spinning wheels. And who knows what all else is in there?”
Janet raised her eyebrows.
“Think about it!” said Abigail. “Eliza Carpenter’s treasure trove. Do you know how many people in this country would freak
out
if they found out they could come to her home and use her things, take classes, perhaps?”
“They
are
passionate about her, yes.”
“She’s a religion. I think I could use this to jump-start my little workshop, my class space. I think that’s what she meant me to do.”
“So it’s all yours?”
“Yes. I’m just not sure how Cade’ll feel about having something like that on, or near, his land.”
“Look at you, love. He’ll give you anything you want.”
“I don’t think so. He thought he was going to get everything.”
“He shouldn’t have assumed.”
“I would have, too. I feel kind of sorry for him.”
Janet reached over and patted Abigail’s cheek. “That’s why I’m the businesswoman, darling, and you’re the writer. Now, tell me when I can come see this little ranch.”
While you cast on all those stitches for the body, have someone tell you a lively story. Even better, make them count the stitches for you.
—
E.C.
A
bigail spent the next week settling into a routine. The house division was working: she rarely saw Cade, and if she did, it was only from a distance. He didn’t seem to notice her at all. He didn’t even glance in her direction if he passed through the kitchen while she was at the sink. He went to bed much earlier than she did, and she was surprised, when she sat in the parlor to read or knit, how companionable the house felt, knowing he was asleep upstairs. It felt more like home than any place she’d been since her mother died. And even if Cade couldn’t stand her, his cat, Duncan, seemed to like her company, resting on her knee at night, purring up a storm.