Hooked on You

by Jenn Matthews

  Even Margaret seemed to be hiding her disbelief. Anna felt better about her own amusement. She squeezed Liam’s hand and exchanged an eyebrow raise with his mother.

  “That daughter of yours had an attitude this evening.” The change in subject made Anna look over.

  She let out a slow breath. “Hmm. Yes. Isn’t it lovely that my twenty-year-old is able to express herself so freely?”

  When she glanced at Margaret, she found her unreadable.

  Liam drummed his fingers on the table. “Well, she seemed outright rude, if you ask me. Disrespecting me and how I do things.”

  “She was just upset that we…” She glanced at Margaret apologetically. “Bethany was pleased we were having a nice meal out together. She worries about me. I think she had this image of a romantic date in her head and…she was disappointed we’d be a three, rather than a two.”

  “I’m sorry I’ve ruined your evening.” Margaret looked at the napkin in her lap.

  “Like I said, it’s absolutely fine. Your health is far more important than Liam and I having time alone. And it’s been lovely, it truly has.” She was overdoing it with the gushing, but she didn’t care. Margaret didn’t deserve to feel bad.

  Margaret looked up, and the edges of her mouth pulled upwards. “So long as you make sure you plan another time, when I’m not feeling so awful?”

  “Oh, don’t worry, Mum. I plan on wining and dining Anna until I die.” He swooped in and kissed Anna full on the lips.

  Anna pulled back, but he closed the space again. She forced herself to accept the kiss, even while her stomach churned at his words. We’ve never discussed the concept of forever. We also never discussed him snogging me in full view of his mother.

  Swishing through the water, Ollie grinned at the toddler splashing towards her. “That’s right, little one. Kick those legs.”

  The mother holding the child smiled as well. “She’s doing ever so well. Look at her.”

  “I know. Absolutely brilliant. She’ll be ready for the Olympics soon.” Ollie preferred the children’s pool—it was warmer and cuddled her injured knee comfortably. She always had to take painkillers before she went into the adult pool.

  Another parent came over with their child, who was wearing a bright pink tutu attached to her costume. The mother had a halter-neck tankini that showed off her curves.

  Ollie often wondered about how people chose their costumes. She liked the simplicity of her usual black one-piece and a pair of board shorts over the top that nearly hid her knee and brushed over her scar so that most people didn’t see it. It made her feel comfortable and staved off too many questions from her pupils and their parents.

  “How long have you been teaching swimming?” the mother asked. Ollie couldn’t remember her name, but it didn’t matter.

  “Two years.”

  “Do you need qualifications or…?” The woman seemed genuinely interested, but wary. Perhaps she felt Ollie wouldn’t want to talk about herself.

  Ollie didn’t mind. “Yes, you need your Level One and your Level Two. I thought about doing my Three, but I don’t need it to teach classes. I have enough.”

  “Oh. And do you do anything else?”

  “I own a shop,” Ollie said, holding out her hands until the little girl squealed and grabbed them. Her mum let her go, and Ollie pulled the child around in the water. “I sell crafty things. In the day, obviously. I do this as an extra thing.” She laughed as the little girl shouted and splashed, then let her hands go. The kid kicked wildly in glee and the mother looked on in delight.

  “So, how many classes a week do you do?”

  “I do three in the week and one on a Saturday morning. I also teach crochet two evenings a week.”

  “Full week,” the mother said and then laughed. “Don’t you have a life?”

  Something hardened in the pit of Ollie’s stomach. Her jaw ached. “I like to be busy.”

  “Really? When do you relax?”

  Ollie felt the pull of the water behind her, or was it her own need to swim away from the woman? “I like what I do.” She tried very hard to remain professional. Somehow, a little of the bitterness she felt towards the woman seeped through. “I mean…” She concentrated on the delighted face of the little girl, who was poking a bubble in the water with a huge amount of focus. She took hold of the girl’s feet and tickled them. The giggling that brought forth dissolved some of the tension as if into the water around her. “It’s a real pleasure to be able to help kids have fun.”

  Uncertainty still trickled from the mum. Please don’t ask me anymore. “I wouldn’t manage constantly working. Got to get some feet-up-gin-in-hand time at least once an evening.”

  She decided to let that one slide. How much gin the mum consumed of an evening was as much Ollie’s business as the hours she worked were the mum’s. With a flutter of relief, Ollie noticed the time. “Okay, guys. Time to get out and dry. Great work today.” In her changing cubicle, her stomach still churned as she rubbed at her skin roughly with her towel. Do I work too much?

  Thursday came around rather slowly for Anna. Timothy and Bethany were constantly at one another’s throats. Bethany was irritated by Timothy’s inability to change his schedule so she could watch some show where a bride relinquished all control of the wedding to her groom, and then the ultimate fallout was televised. Timothy had declared her tastes childish. Bethany replied she thought his were too.

  Four days of this and I’m ready to smack their heads together.

  But they were both adults, more or less, and needed to work it out themselves. Thank goodness the today had been quieter once Bethany had shut herself in her bedroom with university work. Arthur had taken to sitting on Anna’s lap, meowing and nuzzling her hands, so she gave him plenty of treats and cuddles. She knew that the kids would sort it out soon, but in the meantime, home life wasn’t as picturesque as she would like. She felt rather naïve for wishing for perfection, but there it was.

  It was a relief to leave work at four o’clock. She would have plenty of time to go home, mow the lawn, have a shower, and make her dinner before the crochet class at seven. She had decided on the colours for her blanket—burgundy, of course, navy blue, and cream. She’d seen the combination in a furniture shop once and had never forgotten it. The trio would match her living room well.

  Her house phone rang and Anna huffed, wondering why she even had a house phone when her mobile worked just as well and wasn’t always halfway across the house. She hauled herself to her feet, her knees cracking.

  “Hello?” She looked at her watch, hoping it wasn’t something that would take too long.

  “Anna, it’s Patricia.”

  A comfortable feeling enveloped her stomach at the voice of her best friend. “Why, hello. How are you?”

  “Great.” Patricia sounded her usual bright self. “Never better.”

  “Can’t talk long,” Anna said. “Places to be.”

  “Ah, yes, your crochet thing. How’s that going?”

  “Wonderful. Well, I’ve a lot to learn.” Anna leant against the telephone table. “But it’s fun. And it’s nice to be filling my time with making things, rather than just pages and pages of poetry chosen by the national curriculum.”

  The easy friendship they’d developed and maintained since college carried the conversation fluidly, but after ten minutes Anna hastily looked at her watch. “I’m awfully sorry. I have to go.”

  “Hot date with some wool?”

  “Something like that.”

  “You must be making something sexy. Can you make a cock ring out of crochet?”

  Anna stifled a giggle. “Speak soon,” she sang.

  “Love you, babes.”

  She drove to the shop early, hoping to catch Ollie for a few minutes before the class started. That way she could get herself settled with the pattern. She parked
and strode to Darn That Yarn.

  I wonder whether Ollie chose the name herself. She could just imagine Ollie getting frustrated with a project and proclaiming the new name of her shop to the world.

  Anna had managed to arrive twenty minutes early and stood by the side door, wondering whether Ollie would even be downstairs yet. She paused before she finally knocked.

  A blond mop of hair stuck itself out of a window open right above the side door. “Anna.” Ollie’s face was alight. “Hi.” Her mouth was full of food.

  Anna’s heart fell. “Sorry.” She squinted upwards. “I wanted to…I suppose I thought if I was early we could sort out the new pattern.”

  Ollie threw her a hand gesture, as if she were physically waving away Anna’s apology. “It’s fine. Just one minute.” She disappeared from the window.

  I should have just arrived at seven like everyone else.

  The side door opened, and Ollie ushered her in but fanned her hand towards another door. “Go on up.”

  “To your flat?” Anna eyed the staircase in front of her with curiosity.

  “Yep. Go on.”

  Anna ascended the narrow staircase, and when she reached the top, she found herself in a sparse but comfortable flat, the open doors hinting at a bedroom, bathroom, and office. A large living space took over most of the flat, with kitchen things on one side and sofas on the other. It was decorated in soft greys, blues, and greens. A warmth settled over Anna as she looked over the flat. Various crocheted items adorned the furniture.

  “That looks great,” Ollie said, pointing to Anna’s scarf before going to the counter in the kitchen.

  “Thank you. I love it, actually.” Anna stroked the softness of the scarf with her fingers.

  “You worked very hard on it. Quick drink before we join our fellow crafters?” She finished off her sandwich and leant against the counter. “Tea?”

  “All right. Thank you.”

  The dining chair made a scraping noise as Ollie dragged it out from under the table for her. Ollie made tea for them and then sat across from her, leaning backwards in her wooden chair. Anna sat with her bags in her lap.

  “So, how has your week been?” Ollie asked.

  “Fine, thank you.” Anna grimaced.

  Ollie shot her a long look. “You don’t look sure.”

  “Well…” Anna let out a slow breath. “Okay, kids arguing.”

  “Ah.” Ollie sipped at her tea and gestured for Anna to do the same.

  Her bags went onto the tiled floor and she pulled her chair in a little more. Her fingertip circled the rim of the china mug, and she took in the pretty flowers wrapped around it. The mug was warm against her palm as she slipped two fingers into the handle.

  “Something specific or just a personality clash?”

  “Television rows. Personal comments. I’m trying to let them sort themselves out but—”

  “But at some point you’ll be locking them in a room together and not letting them out until they’ve kissed and made up?”

  “Pretty much.” Anna chuckled. “Honestly, they’re in their twenties. And I know Timothy’s a special case, but, really, you’d think I had a couple of ten-year-olds under my roof.”

  “Kieran and Helen still fight like cats and dogs. Not as much as they used to, though. Probably because they no longer live together.”

  “If only they’d communicate like sensible human beings.”

  “Might be a bit much to ask.”

  “Ugh,” Anna said, putting her fingers to her forehead. “I just wish I could have a night off sometimes.”

  “Then welcome,” Ollie said, “to an evening of treble crochet stitches and making new friends.” Her eyes were soft as they looked at Anna over her mug.

  Anna smiled back, closed her eyes, and breathed in the steam from the tea. Ollie’s flat smelled like herbs, a soft scent that made her think of the hand cream she’d given her. “It’s nice here, anyway.” Anna swept her chin in a circle to indicate the flat.

  “Thanks.” Ollie sat back and crossed her legs. She tapped her forefinger against her mug. “Came with the shop. Almost identical to my old place, actually. Furnished too. Made moving in pretty hassle-free.”

  “You couldn’t get something more substantial in the divorce?”

  “Nope. Didn’t get a whole lot from that. And I don’t need anything bigger,” Ollie said. “This does perfectly for now. Perfect for one.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Ollie looked at her watch. “We’d better go open up the classroom. And you”—she pointed a finger at Anna—“had better choose some DK for your blanket.” She stood and picked up her keys, a large bunch with a simple green heart on a key ring.

  “DK?” Anna stood, too, and gathered her bags.

  “Double knit. Sorry. Keep forgetting you aren’t familiar with the lingo.” They headed downstairs.

  The noise of things being moved around drifted through from the classroom.

  “Have you decided on colours?” Ollie moved to stand close to Anna.

  “Actually, that’s as far as I’ve got. Navy, burgundy, and cream.”

  “Lovely.” Ollie grabbed a set of steps from against the wall, opened them out, and climbed up. She leant forward to take two balls from their little cubby holes. She held the navy and cream balls out, her head tilted and her eyebrows raised in question.

  Anna stuffed the wool under her arm and grabbed the ladder, flashes of Ollie tumbling from the top making her shiver. She probably does this all the time. She was dating a health and safety officer; it was only natural she would want to keep Ollie safe. As she allowed her gaze to trail up Ollie’s long legs, she realised Ollie’s backside was right at her eye level. She swallowed. It wiggled a bit as Ollie fumbled to move some balls around. Anna couldn’t tear her gaze away. It was a very nice bottom, hugged perfectly in a black pair of jeans and brushed by the bottom edge of her white long-sleeve top.

  Another one of Anna’s rules was that she didn’t ogle bottoms. She was far too set in her feminist ways. She didn’t approve of men doing so, and therefore she didn’t do it herself.

  What is the matter with me?

  Gripping the ladder more firmly, she forced her gaze back to Ollie’s boots. Her insides relaxed a little as Ollie finally clambered down.

  Ollie’s fringe was hanging in front of her eyes, and she pushed it back, holding out a ball of burgundy wool. Anna’s expression must have displayed her pleasure, because Ollie beamed at her.

  “Perfect?”

  “Yes.” As she took the ball from Ollie, their fingers brushed.

  They looked at one another. The earth seemed to stop spinning. Everything was quiet.

  A loud knock on the side door broke the moment.

  Anna pulled her lip into her mouth while Ollie went to open the door. Clutching three balls of yarn tightly to her chest, she wasn’t sure she had the ability to move without dropping one of them. She steeled herself, set her fingers tight around them, and breathed deeply for a few minutes. Then she walked towards the classroom.

  Six or seven people had arrived already. Anna was instructed to sit next to Christian, a tall, broad-shouldered man about her age, with a toothy smile and kind eyes.

  “You came last week,” he said after introductions had been made.

  “And the week before.” Anna shook his hand. “I’m afraid I’m still a bit of a novice.”

  “Well, we’ve all got to start somewhere.” He took out a huge cardboard box from under the table.

  She peered inside. It contained four cones of some kind of thick material made into thread. “What on earth is that?”

  “T-shirt yarn.”

  “Made from…T-shirts?” Anna couldn’t help staring at him.

  “Essentially, yes.”

  “What do you make with it?”

>   “Well, you can make lots of things. I’m making some toy baskets for the grandkids.” He held up a ratty-looking piece of paper with a pattern for a large basket with handles on it and an owl face on the front.

  “How clever.” Anna reached into the box to pick up an end. She frowned at him. “What size hook would you need for that?”

  He moved slowly, his eyes gleaming, and produced a wooden hook as wide as Anna’s thumb.

  Anna tried not to swear in shock. She failed.

  As Ollie shot her a look from the other side of the room, Christian laughed.

  “You know we have minors here tonight, right?” Ollie grumbled.

  A hand clamped over her mouth, Anna still sniggered through her fingers.

  Christian waved the hook as if it were a magic wand, and that just made her laugh harder.

  When Anna looked back over, Ollie just shook her head and shrugged and then began handing out the pattern for some his-and-hers slippers.

  Matthew and a couple of the others scoffed at it.

  “I know, I know,” she said. “Heteronormative pattern. But there are so many good ones.” She smirked at Matthew. “You can rename yours ‘his-and-his’ if you like.”

  Matthew was quite camp in the way he spoke and the way he behaved. He winked at Ollie, which made Ollie blush and look at the floor for a moment. Why would Ollie blush at that? Did she have a problem with Matthew being gay?

  Christian’s starting colour was a lovely bright peacock-blue. Anna watched his large hands for a moment. It looked like difficult work, and not just the stitches. My hands would ache within minutes. She looked down at her own collection, and the balls looked so small in comparison.