Blossom Street Brides (3 page)

“I want the pattern and yarn for that baby blanket,” Bethanne told her friend. “I can hardly wait to start
knitting.” The thought of her first grandchild filled her with excitement and joy. She’d knit the baby blanket, but already she was thinking of two other patterns she wanted to tackle. This child would lack for nothing.

The smile left Lydia’s face. “Oh, Bethanne, I’m sorry. I’ve sold out of that particular yarn, but I have a new shipment coming in on Thursday. I can put five skeins aside for you if you want.”

“I do. I’ll stop by Thursday afternoon and pick it up. Can I come around five?”

“That would be perfect. The shipment is sure to have arrived by then. Lauren Elliott is stopping by around that time, too.”

“Lauren Elliott … Lauren Elliott,” Bethanne repeated. “Why is her name familiar?” She tapped her index finger against her lips. Generally, she was good at remembering names, a necessity in her party business, with so many repeat customers.

“Lauren works at John Michael Jewelers.”

“Oh, yes. I was in the shop not long ago, and she was helpful.”

“Buying diamonds, are we?” Lydia teased.

Bethanne sighed. “Max wanted me to pick out something for our first anniversary.” It saddened her that he hadn’t been with her, but their weekend time together was limited. There were far more important matters that needed attention, mainly each other. From the way they acted, one would think they were twenty-year-olds. Max made her feel loved and cherished.

The shop doorbell jingled as Margaret, Lydia’s older sister, came inside. It was hard to picture the two as siblings. Margaret was big-boned and tall, while Lydia was petite and delicate. That wasn’t the only difference. Their personalities were polar opposites. Lydia was warm and welcoming, and Margaret was a bit gruff, with ragged edges.

“The weirdest thing just happened,” Margaret said, frowning. “When I got off the bus I saw a woman knitting, but then she left the knitting on the bench to get on the bus.”

“She left her knitting behind?” Bethanne asked.

“Yeah, so I stopped her and pointed out that she’d forgotten her knitting, and she said it wasn’t hers.”

“She was knitting on someone else’s project?” Lydia asked. “Well, that’s odd.”

“I thought the same thing,” Margaret said. “I mean, really, it’s pretty nervy to just pick up another person’s project and start knitting, don’t you think?”

Bethanne had to agree.

“So what did you do?” Lydia asked. She walked around to the cash register and made a notation on a tablet. Bethanne saw that she was noting the baby blanket yarn for her to collect on Thursday. Lauren Elliott’s name was on the list as well.

Margaret fiddled with the large buttons of her light jacket, slipped it off, and hung it over her arm. “It really wasn’t any of my business, but I couldn’t help myself.”

“You looked at the knitting.”

“It was in a basket. A really nice one. It sort of reminded
me of one Mom had years ago. I’m sure we sent it to some charity when we moved her into the assisted-living complex. Remember the woven basket with the purple stripe?”

Lydia shook her head. “No. Mom had all kinds of baskets.”

“True. Well, never mind, that isn’t important. I lifted out the yarn and needles, and there was a note inside with big letters that said:
KNIT ME
.”

“Knit me?” Lydia repeated.

“Yes. Apparently, someone left this project there on purpose, wanting people to work on it while they wait for the bus.”

“What is it they’re supposed to be knitting?” Bethanne asked.

“A scarf. The note said that once it’s finished it will be given to a homeless shelter.”

Bethanne found this all rather interesting, and, looking at Lydia, asked, “You haven’t heard of anyone doing this before now, have you?”

“Not a word,” Lydia replied. “But I think it’s a great idea. It’s a wonderful way to help others, and as a bonus, it might get more people interested in knitting.”

“I hadn’t heard of it, either,” Margaret said, “and here’s the thing. While I was looking at the project on the needles, a woman came up to me and said she saw another basket in the park with the same message.”

“You mean there’s more than one project out there?”

“Apparently so.”

“I wonder how many?”

Bethanne was amused. “For all we know, they might be all over the city.”

“I wonder who’s doing this?” Lydia asked. “I mean, I think it’s great, but I’d like to know who came up with this idea.”

Margaret nodded her head. “Me, too, and whoever it is shops here.”

“What makes you think that?” Lydia asked, smiling now. “Was the yarn a brand we sell?”

“We apparently did at one time,” Margaret said, “but it must have been before I came on staff, because I didn’t recognize the name.”

“Then how did you know it was from A Good Yarn?” Bethanne asked, her curiosity mounting.

“Easy. The price tag had A Good Yarn stamped on it.”

“Really?” Lydia’s eyes rounded in surprise. “I wonder who put this together.”

“Can’t tell you,” Margaret returned, “but I wish I’d been the one to think of it.” She started toward the office and then abruptly turned back. “I nearly forgot. When the yarn runs out, the project is finished and the last person knitting needs to bring the scarf to the shop.”

“Here?”

“Here,” Margaret answered. “It specifically says to deliver the finished project to A Good Yarn. Kind of fun, isn’t it?”

“Kind of. I just wish whoever thought of this would’ve taken the time to clue me in.”

Bethanne glanced at her watch. It’d been a long day at the office and she was ready for her tea break. Besides, she
was waiting for Max to return her call. “I better head home. I’ll stop by on Thursday for the yarn for the baby blanket.”

“Do you mind if I tell Margaret your news?”

“Please do.”

Bethanne drove home to the very house where she’d raised her children, the home she loved. At one point, not long ago, Grant had tried to lure her away from the house and from Max. He seemed to think that if they could start over and put the past behind them the world would right itself again.

She loved this colonial-style home with the green shutters and the spacious rooms. It was much too large for her now, but she couldn’t bring herself to sell it. After Grant moved out, she’d struggled to hold on to the house. At the time it had seemed an impossibility, but she couldn’t let it go. Her children had already lost their father, and she was determined they wouldn’t lose the only home they had ever known. It wasn’t their fault their father couldn’t keep his pants zipped. Bethanne was proud that she’d survived those first torturous months following her divorce. At the same time, she realized she’d never have been able to do it without the encouragement and emotional support she got from her friends.

Once inside the kitchen, she put on water for tea. She’d found that she enjoyed a few minutes’ respite at the end of the day. The house was quiet, and she turned on the television for the early news broadcast simply for the noise. When Andrew and Annie, her children, had lived at home, they seemed to be constantly coming and going, music blaring, cellphones ringing. These days there was silence. It
was more peaceful, but she missed the chatter of her children. Within a few months she would again hear the noise, only this time it would be from a newborn.

A baby.

It’d been a lot of years since this house had heard a baby’s cry. A lump filled her throat as she carried her tea to her preferred spot in the family room off the kitchen. Her favorite chair sat close to the fireplace, and a container with her knitting rested on the Oriental rug next to the overstuffed chair and ottoman. She automatically reached for it. While she currently had two or three projects going, she would put them all aside and immediately start the baby blanket once the yarn arrived.

She hadn’t taken more than a sip of tea when her cell rang. Seeing that it was Max, she eagerly grabbed the phone. She’d left a message with Rooster, Max’s friend and business partner, for Max to call her as soon as he was available.

“Honey, what is it?”

“Andrew called me this afternoon, and Courtney’s pregnant,” she blurted out in one quick breath.

“She’s pregnant? Well, congratulations to Andrew and Courtney. I imagine you’re walking on cloud nine.”

“That doesn’t even begin to describe how I feel. When I heard the news I wanted to laugh, and at the same time I had to hold back tears. It’s been so long since there was a baby in the family.”

“You’re gonna be one sexy grandma.”

“I knew you’d say that.” A warm, happy feeling stole over her. “I wish you were here right now.”

“So do I.” His voice dipped low. “This makes the decision all the more difficult for you, doesn’t it?”

Bethanne didn’t need clarification. They’d gone round and round about her selling her party business so she could move to California. Over the years it had grown and prospered. Bethanne had a huge emotional investment in it. Still, it went without saying that it would be far easier for her to sell her company than for Max to move his wine-export business to Washington State.

While Washington was the second-largest wine-producing state in the country behind California, it wasn’t anywhere close to competing.

“I … I don’t know.” The thought of selling her business was one thing, but to move away from a grandchild was something else entirely.

“Do you regret marrying me?” her husband asked.

“Max! How can you even ask that?”

“You’re right. It’s a ridiculous question. We belong together. I knew it the minute you climbed on the back of my motorcycle and held on to me so tightly you nearly crushed my ribs.

“You’re smiling.”

“How can you tell?”

“I know you, my love. You’re thinking about the two of us riding down that road in Nevada shortly after we met.”

Bethanne laughed, remembering all too well being stuck in the middle of the Nevada desert with a broken-down car.

“I can still see the look on Annie’s face when we saw you and Rooster. Both of you in leather vests with tanned
muscular arms, looking for all intents and purposes as though Rooster would have liked nothing better than to do away with the lot of us.”

“Rooster has that way about him.”

“That he does,” Bethanne agreed. She’d come to admire and appreciate Max’s closest friend. It’d been Rooster who’d held the company together after Max’s wife and daughter died. Without him, Max would have lost everything.

Suddenly, the front door flew open and Grant let himself into the house. “Bethanne,” he all but shouted her name.

“Hold on a minute, Max,” she said.

Wearing a huge grin, Grant came toward her. “I just heard the news.”

Bethanne set her cell aside and stood. Grant wrapped his arms around her waist, lifted her off the ground, and swung her around.

Bethanne let out a squeal and, laughing, demanded, “Grant, Grant, put me down this minute.”

“We’re going to be grandparents.”

“Yes, I know. Andrew phoned me this afternoon.”

“We need to celebrate.”

“Grant, hold on.” She reached for her cell. “Max, Grant is here. I’ll call you back in a few minutes.”

“What does he mean you need to celebrate?”

“I don’t know; he just got here.” Her husband sounded jealous, which was ridiculous, seeing that the two of them were deeply in love and married. “I won’t be long, I promise.”

“Call me back when you can.”

“Will do. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Bethanne ended the call and turned to face her ex-husband.

“Are you as excited as I am?” Grant asked, his face aglow with happiness.

“More so.” Bethanne could barely sit still.

“We can’t let this opportunity pass without celebrating. Let me take you to dinner.”

Bethanne hesitated but then agreed. Max wasn’t the jealous type; he’d understand, and she’d phone him later with plenty of reassurances. But now was a time to celebrate.

Lauren knew Elisa was stunned by the news that her daughter was pregnant. Thankfully, Elisa had resisted the urge to rush to Pullman and browbeat Katie into getting an abortion, thanks mostly to Garry, her husband.

On hearing the news, Garry had insisted they give Katie and Dietrich time to sort this situation out themselves, the same way Elisa’s parents had done twenty years earlier when they discovered Elisa was pregnant. Although Elisa didn’t like it, she’d agreed to give the two young adults breathing room. It was hard for her friend to stay out of it, Lauren realized, and she had to admire Elisa’s restraint.

In the morning Elisa was already at the store when Lauren arrived just before ten, and Lauren was determined to distract her from dwelling on the situation with Katie.

“I’ve made my decision,” Lauren announced.

Elisa looked up from the computer screen and blinked as if she didn’t have a solitary idea what Lauren was referring to.

“About me and Todd,” she elaborated. “It’s clear that
since he’s been riding the fence this long, he’s simply not ready to move forward. I can accept that. I don’t like it, but it is what it is.”

Elisa rolled back her desk chair as she nodded approvingly. “So you’re going to take my advice and give Todd an ultimatum.”

“No.”

Elisa’s eyes widened. “No?” she repeated.

“I’m uncomfortable pressuring him to make a bigger commitment when clearly he isn’t ready, or more than likely he wants to keep matters the way they are, which tells me he simply doesn’t want to
marry
me.”

“So what are you going to do?”

As far as Lauren could see, she had no other option. “I think it’s best if the two of us make a clean break of it.”

This didn’t appear to make sense to Elisa. “But, Lauren, you’ve got all this time invested in the relationship already. It would be foolish to give up on Todd now. What he needs is a bit of incentive.”

“I’ve already given him incentive. As my father would tell me, why put good time after bad, only he’d say money instead of time. My relationship with Todd is stagnant. His focus is on his career, and that’s not going to change. I have no option but to own up to the fact that he isn’t interested. He doesn’t see himself as a husband and father, at least not with me as his wife.”