While My Pretty One Knits (2 page)

Amanda had resented the quick success of Maggie’s store, which had easily eclipsed her own. She’d always taken it personally. Maggie usually laughed off the feud as all in Amanda’s head, though her contentious rival had managed to get under Maggie’s skin more than once in the past few years. Still, Maggie tried hard to rise above Amanda’s pettiness and ignore her.

“Can I help you with something?” Maggie started to rise from her chair.

“Don’t get up.” Amanda waved at her. “I just wanted to say hello.” Amanda took a few more steps inside and fingered a skein of yarn that sat in a basket on a side table. Then she read the label and nodded. “Organic. Nice…. Wow, look at that price. Are you trying to put me out of business, Maggie?”

The accusation was delivered with a small surprised laugh. Maggie managed another tight smile. “A new supplier. She’s giving good discounts to build her business. Would you like her card?”

“That’s okay. I’m not getting involved with any new labels right now. I’m trying to take a step back from the Nest.”

“Really?” Maggie didn’t bother to hide her surprise. Lucy was surprised, too. Amanda was devoted to her shop. Obsessed with it, Lucy would say.

“I’m looking for a manager,” she added. “If you think of anyone, let me know.”

“Yes, I will,” Maggie promised.

Amanda plucked a ball of yarn from another basket and slipped on her reading glasses for a closer inspection. Maggie glanced at her friends. Everyone had pulled out their projects and had busily set to work, but of course, they still soaked up every word of the exchange.

Taking a step back from the knitting wars? Lucy wondered. What had enticed Amanda to suddenly retreat from battle? Whatever it was, it seemed to agree with her.

Amanda rewound the wool and carefully set the ball back in the basket. “You really have some nice stock in here Maggie. And so well displayed.”

Had Amanda actually given Maggie a compliment? Lucy saw Maggie’s eyes widen. She was speechless.

Amanda slipped her wrap around her arms and turned to go. “Looks like I’d better get here early tomorrow for a good seat.”

“Yes, you really should,” Maggie replied, finding her voice again. “Cara will start at eleven, but we’ll be open at nine.”

“I’ll come when you open, then.” She flashed a grin, displaying dazzling white teeth. “See you, ladies.”

The others looked up from their work and nodded good-bye as Amanda swished through the doorway.

Maggie raised her hand and waved. “Good night, Amanda. See you—”

The door snapped closed and they sat in absolute silence.

Lucy imagined Amanda lingering on the porch, about to pop back in for a sneak attack. She slowly looked around at her friends. “Did that really happen?” Her gaze came to rest on Maggie. “Is she really coming here tomorrow?”

“I’d worry about that, if I were you.” Suzanne’s clicking needles echoed her concern. “You know Amanda. What if she makes a scene? What if she’s coming just to screw things up?”

Suzanne was their official Fretting Queen. But this time, Lucy thought Suzanne had a point.

“I thought about that, too, when she called to sign up,” Maggie admitted. “But I had plenty of room left and I didn’t feel right being rude to her. Maybe she won’t even come.” Maggie touched her forehead with her hand. “I can’t remember the last time she stopped in here like that. Or maybe I just blocked it out of my memory?”

Dana finished a row and turned her work to the other side. She was making a long, belted cardigan with a shawl collar using taupe-colored wool with a touch of angora. Lucy thought it was going to look fabulous on her.

“I’m sure any visit from Amanda is always fraught with drama,” Dana said. “Funny how she’d seemed so conciliatory tonight. And she looked terrific.”

“Didn’t she? I almost didn’t recognize her,” Lucy admitted. “Even her teeth were sort of…glowing.”

“Looked like veneers to me,” Suzanne agreed. “You can’t get there with the home strips.”

“Her hair looked really good, too,” Lucy noted. “I wonder where she had it done.”

Amanda had changed her dowdy Dutch boy style for a ragged razor cut and a brighter color. Her plain features were enhanced by serious makeup, Lucy had noticed. Eyes, lips, foundation—the works. It didn’t look like drugstore stuff, either. Definitely department store quality.

“A new and improved Amanda,” Maggie summed up. “Her personality included. I think she actually gave me a compliment.”

“Could you believe it? What was that about?” Suzanne shook her head.

Dana set her knitting down and checked the pattern. “I’ve always thought she was a perfect candidate for antidepressants. Argumentative. Paranoid. Maybe she started taking some medication. There are some terrific new drugs out there now.”

Dana was rarely at a loss for a diagnosis, but in this case, Lucy thought it was a smart call. Amanda did seem transformed from the inside out.

“She lost some weight, too. But everybody loses weight when their marriage breaks up.” Suzanne sounded very knowledgeable for someone who had married her high school boyfriend and seemed to be living happily ever after, juggling her part-time job in real estate with the 24/7 job of running a home and raising three children.

Lucy had some personal experience with the divorce diet. She’d dropped twenty pounds during her breakup with Eric, and, just like Amanda, had splurged for the requisite overpriced haircut. By now, she had gained about half the weight back and her long wavy hair had returned to its former dirty blonde color and unruly style.

“Amanda and Peter are not divorced yet. They’re not even legally separated,” Dana clarified. “They’re living apart, but I don’t think they’ve signed anything. Jack knows the attorney who’s representing Peter, and I hear Amanda is tough as nails negotiating.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Maggie murmured.

Dana’s husband, Jack, had had a full career as a county detective before returning to school for a law degree and now practiced in town. Between the two of them, Dana and Jack were privy to the inside story on many residents of Plum Harbor. Not that she lacked in discretion or professional ethics in any way, Lucy thought, Dana didn’t mind adding a few insider footnotes to stories that were common knowledge.

“She’ll never find a guy like Peter, willing to put up with all
her
quirks, that’s for sure.” Suzanne rolled her eyes. “Why did they split up in the first place?”

Dana took a snip of black yarn and tied a marker at the end of her row. She shrugged. “Who knows? I did hear that one day she just cleared all the furniture and the handcrafted things he makes and dumped it all in a pile on the sidewalk. Before Peter could get over there, half of it was gone.”

Lucy had not been in the Knitting Nest for ages, but she did recall Peter’s wares took up a good portion of the space.

“He’s a good craftsman. His pieces have simple lines but are very artistic,” Maggie said sympathetically. “Knowing Amanda, anything could have set her off.”

Dana pursed her lips, concentrating on her stitches. Lucy sensed she knew more about the Gorans’ marriage than she would say. Dana glanced up at her friends, then down at her needles.

“What did she do with all the empty space in the shop?” Lucy asked.

“Moved in a huge spinning wheel…and a big display of her dog sweaters.” Maggie’s gaze remained on her knitting but Lucy saw her laugh. Maggie acted as if she didn’t give a thought to the Knitting Nest, but somehow she managed to keep up with any changes there, Lucy noticed.

“Kicking Peter out of the shop does make more room for the dogs. How convenient,” Suzanne said. She’d been fishing through her big tapestry knitting bag for something and finally came up with a crumpled copy of her pattern.

Suzanne was a fast but impatient knitter and she hated to follow a pattern. Everybody teased her about it. Or maybe she was just multitasking so much, she didn’t have time to check instructions. On any given night, poor Suzanne ended up frogging half her work, ripping out half as many rows as she’d finished. She was making a chulo hat for her thirteen-year-old daughter, Alexis, but had never worked with three colors before.

“Andrea and Peter never had children. The dogs obviously take up the emotional slack. Transference,” Dana offered.

There seemed to be plenty of that. Amanda was as devoted as any mother to her furry darlings. Lucy wasn’t quite sure how many she had now. A pack of mixed-breed hounds she’d adopted from shelters and rescue groups. That was another reason customers avoided the Knitting Nest. Amanda always kept two or three of her canine crew in the shop with her and some people were uncomfortable around dogs, or simply didn’t like dealing with all the cold, wet noses and the pet hair getting into their projects.

“Maggie…can you fix this…please? This snowflake is turning into a spider.” Maggie stuck her hand out and Suzanne handed over her project. White, blue, and pink bobbins of yarn dangled from the piece.

Maggie examined Suzanne’s knitting, then picked up a few stitches to get her back on track.

“I, for one, am all in favor of a kinder and gentler Amanda Goran. I think it’s very hard for a person to change. I give her a lot of credit. Whatever the reason behind the transformation, I wish her well,” Maggie said as she handed Suzanne back her knitting.

The front door of the shop swung open. They held their breath and looked up to see who was coming in this time.

Phoebe, finally.

She clomped in, big black boots scraping the wooden floor. Her cheeks were ruddy from the cold, her dark eyes bright. A fuzzy, multicolored scarf of her own creation looped around her neck, dangling down the front of her black peacoat. A streak of magenta in the scarf matched the one dyed in her dark hair.

She swung her book bag off her shoulder and smiled.

“Hi, guys. Sorry I’m late…did I miss anything?”

Lucy got home around ten. She felt tired but needed to make up lost time on her current work project—designing a set of pamphlets explaining employee health insurance benefits. She knew she’d be out again most of the day tomorrow and didn’t have that much breathing room on the deadline.

The assignment seemed boring and endless, though she’d only been working on it a week. But it was paying the rent, Lucy kept reminding herself.

She kept at it until half past one, then decided to quit for the night. Before shutting down the computer, she quickly checked her e-mail. A message from her sister Ellen reminding Lucy she was expected at a dinner party at Ellen’s house in Concord this coming Saturday night. Lucy had forgotten all about it…conveniently. The mere thought of sitting through one of Ellen and Scott’s get-togethers made her want to run to her bed and put a pillow over her head.

Ellen had been sympathetic enough during Lucy’s divorce, but now acted as if it had been an unfortunate but fairly common ailment, like whiplash or a compressed disc. Lucy could not expect to recover and return to a normal life if she didn’t bare down and commit to “the therapy.” If Lucy was still not “moving on” with her life at this point, to Ellen’s way of thinking, well…maybe she was just plain lazy.

Secretly, Lucy had to agree at least a little with this diagnosis, though she wasn’t sure what she could do about it. Especially when “the therapy” took the form of one of Ellen’s get-togethers, where Lucy knew she would be surrounded by happy—or presumably happy—suburban couples. With the exception of one unattached, presumably straight man that Ellen always invited as the latest candidate.

Ellen’s well-intentioned matchups were, without exception, disastrous. Lucy sometimes went through the motions just to avoid hurting Ellen’s feelings…or avoid her nagging. This time, however, she typed a quick note, claiming she had a bad deadline and could not possibly come to Concord…as much as she wanted to.

There was also a message from her mother, who was down in Nicaragua, building houses and latrines in a poverty-stricken village. Her mother’s idea of a great tropical vacation, bless her heart. Isabel Binger taught political science at the University of Massachusetts in Amherst, but was on a sabbatical this year.

Lucy and Ellen had been raised near Amherst, in the town of Northampton. Their parents had divorced when Lucy was in college. Her father, Harry Binger, had retired from his law practice and immediately moved down to Myrtle Beach. He’d always hated the cold winters in the northeast and its brief golfing season. Lucy had visited him once at his condo community. She found the place a lot like the Jersey shore but with palm trees and miles of real golf courses, instead of miniature ones—though there were a lot of those, too.

Her father had married a woman named Sheila who shared his values and priorities—well-maintained greens, dry martinis, and watching a lively panel of celebrity guests on
Larry King Live
.

While it was easy to say Ellen had taken after their father and Lucy was clearly her mother’s child, Lucy knew that it was never so simple as that.

There were a few other messages from work associates and friends in the city. Many couldn’t believe that she was still living out here. At first, neither could Lucy.

During her summers growing up, Lucy’s parents more or less dumped her and Ellen with their aunt Laura, who was a schoolteacher with summers off, for weeks at a stretch, as if Laura’s home were some convenient free summer camp. But Aunt Laura looked forward to it, being unmarried and without kids of her own. Once the girls were in high school and college, summer jobs and their social lives reduced their visits to Plum Harbor down to a weekend or two. Then when she got busy with her career and marriage, Lucy had not come up very often at all.

Aunt Laura seemed to understand. She was not the whining or judgmental type. When Laura died last spring, the cottage that had always been her home was left to Lucy and Ellen.

Lucy had just left her office job and set up her own business so she decided to take a long summer in Plum Harbor. It seemed a good place to clear her head and regroup after so many life-altering changes in such a short time.

Ellen was happy to have Lucy stay in the house, instead of renting it out to strangers. Lucy’s older sister, who was married with two girls, came out for a weekend only once with her family.