Starting Now

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Starting Now Page 4

by Debbie Macomber


  After cutting the stems, she placed the flowers in two tall water glasses. She set one on her desk next to the plant she was nursing back to health and the other in the middle of her kitchen table. It surprised her how much the afternoon out had lightened her mood.

  Until recently her home had been little more than an office away from her office. The sofa could use some throw pillows, and most of her walls remained bare. How sterile the condo looked. It certainly wouldn’t hurt to brighten the place up a bit. She could buy a painting or two. That was a start. Looking through magazines for ideas might help, too.

  She stopped in the middle of her living room and her pulse accelerated. This was the first time that she’d returned home without immediately rushing to check her messages. When she saw the red light flashing, her heart started to pound hard and fast. It could be a request for a job interview.

  Pushing the button, she discovered it was Robin. “All right, all right. I got your message. I’ll be there Monday at six-fifteen. Seeing as how you’re the one who talked me into this, I expect you to be there, too. And,” she added, “I am fatter than you and that’s the end of it.”

  Libby grinned. Well, at least now she’d have a friend to work out with.

  Libby slept better that night than she had in weeks. She wasn’t sure why, other than the lunch with Robin and the visit to the yarn store.

  The yarn store … something about the place had deeply affected her. Libby realized what it was. She had felt closer to her mother while in the store. As soon as she’d entered the shop she’d experienced a sense of comfort. The ugly negative voices she struggled to keep at bay had faded to a mere whisper.

  Friday morning, after her visit to the gym, she followed her usual routine, surfing the Internet seeking job information. Then she called Sarah to check in. The firm had laid off five more staff and Sarah felt fortunate to still have a job. When Libby inquired about the others, she learned that two of her colleagues had been picked up by other firms. Her self-esteem took an immediate nosedive into a deep, dark pit of doubt.

  Frankly she couldn’t understand why the others had gotten jobs and she hadn’t. No one worked harder or longer hours than Libby. No one. She was an asset. Okay, fine, she hadn’t brought in any major clients. That wasn’t her gift; she was still a hard worker—her billable hours proved as much.

  At ten, Libby showered and dressed. She planned to return to the yarn store and purchase yarn if Lydia had time to reacquaint her with the basics. It wouldn’t take long. She figured she’d pick up on the knit and purl stitches without much effort; it was casting on and off that she’d forgotten. Having a goal, a purpose to help fill the time between interviews and job searches, appealed to her. She could knit.

  When Libby arrived at A Good Yarn, the cat was warming himself in the window. Apparently he was something of a fixture in the store. She walked in and was surprised to find that Lydia wasn’t there.

  “Can I help you?” The woman who greeted her looked busy and wasn’t nearly as welcoming or as friendly as Lydia.

  “I was here yesterday,” Libby explained. “I met Lydia and Casey and another girl. I think her name was Ava.”

  The other woman stared at her and didn’t offer a return comment.

  “Lydia offered to help me relearn knitting.”

  “My sister is a good teacher.”

  “Lydia’s your sister?” Although both had the same dark brown hair and eyes, they were about as different as any two women could be. In addition to the obvious differences in personality, Lydia was tiny and delicate and her sister was large and big boned.

  “I’m Margaret, and I get that quite a bit.”

  “Get what?”

  “That look of surprise when people find out Lydia and I are related. She had cancer as a kid and I think it stunted her growth.”

  “Oh.”

  “She took our mom to a doctor’s appointment this morning. We take turns helping Mom.”

  Libby walked over to the display for the preemie hats. “I was thinking I could probably knit one of these, but I’d need a bit of guidance getting started.”

  “I can help you with that.” Margaret came out from behind the counter. “Sorry if I seemed brusque, Lydia’s much more of a people person than I am. Do you have needles?”

  “Ah … no. Actually I’ll need everything.”

  “No problem.” Walking at a brisk pace, Margaret went from one end of the store to the other collecting items. “What color yarn do you want?”

  “Ah …”

  “Pink, blue, neutral?”

  “Neutral, I guess.” Libby had trouble keeping up with the other woman. Margaret grabbed a peach-colored ball of yarn.

  “The pattern Lydia prefers is for knitting in the round, but she has another for straight needles.” She paused and looked at Libby.

  Libby blinked, unsure what the question was. “I don’t know that I’ve ever knit anything in the round.”

  “Not a problem,” Margaret said, and grabbed a pair of straight needles off the case. “In addition to yarn and needles, you’ll need a measuring tape and scissors.”

  This charity project was quickly adding up. “Exactly how much is this going to cost me?”

  “Less than you’d think. Lydia gives a discount when knitters buy yarn for charity projects.”

  “Okay.” While Margaret tallied everything up, Libby withdrew her debit card. “Will you be able to help me this morning?” Now that she had the yarn and needles, Libby was eager to get started.

  “Sure thing.”

  Someone else stepped into the store and Margaret greeted her by name. Libby settled down at the back table where she’d met Casey and Ava the day before and waited for Margaret to join her. It didn’t take long. The customer knew exactly what she wanted, made her purchase, and was gone.

  Margaret joined Libby. “I usually crochet,” she explained, “but I knit, too. It’d probably be best to do a knitted cast-on.” She handed Libby the pattern, which was on a single sheet of paper. The picture of the hat had faded from repeated copying, but Libby didn’t think that would matter.

  “Ah … sure … whichever cast-on you think would be best.”

  “You might want to read the instructions all the way through first,” she suggested.

  “Okay.” Libby reached for the sheet. They were actually pretty easy to understand.

  “You finished?”

  Libby nodded.

  Margaret made a single loop and slipped it onto the needle. It only took watching Margaret cast on two stitches before Libby picked up on how it was done. Another customer dropped by and Margaret stepped away from the table. By the time she returned, Libby had the required number of stitches on the needle.

  “I suggest you make a couple of the hats in stockinet stitch, which is knitting one row and purling the next. Once you’re comfortable with that, Lydia can show you how to knit in the round with either double-pointed needles or two circular needles.”

  This sounded a bit like Greek to Libby, but she nodded as though she understood.

  Libby had her first hat finished by the time Lydia returned. Casey was with her and the teenager broke into a huge grin as soon as she saw Libby. She hurried to the back table.

  “You came back.”

  Libby smiled at the girl’s enthusiasm. “You inspired me.”

  “Ava’s coming by later. Can you stay?”

  It wasn’t like Libby had anyplace else to rush off to. “Sure.”

  “I’ll sit with you if you want.” Casey pulled out a chair and sat down next to Libby. She took her project from her backpack and started to work on it.

  After a few minutes Lydia joined them.

  “Libby, I’m glad you decided to come back. I see Margaret got you set up.”

  She nodded. “The stitches aren’t that even …”

  “Remember what you told Ava,” Casey reminded her. “It really helped. She was ready to quit and then you said she had to crochet all the ugly ones
before she could do anything pretty. She’s still waiting for the pretty ones, but I told her they’re coming.”

  “Apparently I have a few ugly ones left in me, too,” Libby said, and smiled. Casey smiled back.

  Chapter 4

  Bright and early Monday morning, Libby waited in the gym lobby for Robin. They’d continued to text over the weekend, but her friend hadn’t mentioned the gym again.

  “I wasn’t sure you’d show,” Libby admitted when Robin walked through the gym door.

  Robin, who’d never been much of a morning person, growled back, “Me either, but I’m here.” She’d brought along a change of clothes, which told Libby her friend intended to head straight to the office after their workout. It was what Libby would have done if she were employed, not that she needed a reminder that she was without a job. By living frugally, her severance package and unemployment benefits had carried her financially up until now, but it wouldn’t be long before she had to dig into her savings. The thought of that terrified her.

  “Let’s get started,” Libby said, eager to show Robin the ropes. They found lockers next to each other and headed onto the floor. At this time of the morning the gym was even busier than at Libby’s usual time. They put their names on the waiting list for the treadmills and walked the track on the second-floor level until the machines were free. Runners raced past them as if Libby and Robin were standing still. Libby took delight in reminding Robin that the tortoises always beat the hares. Robin grumbled an incomprehensible reply.

  “I’m tired already,” Robin complained as they reached the main floor for their turn on the treadmills.

  Libby remembered how sore and out of shape she’d felt after her first week, but said nothing. No need to discourage Robin before she got started.

  Libby stepped onto her machine, set the program, and started walking. Her pace the first few minutes was slow and easy, working up to a fast clip, gradually increasing the angle. The instructor set up Robin’s machine and left after a few encouraging words.

  “This isn’t so bad,” Robin said as she started walking.

  Libby smiled, knowing what was coming. “I’m glad you decided to join me.”

  Robin glanced her way and muttered, “Fat.”

  Libby laughed. She was glad Robin had followed through. It would have required an act of Congress to tear Libby away from the office for something as trivial as exercise.

  “This … will help me to … lose weight … right?” Robin already sounded winded and she wasn’t five minutes into the routine.

  “Yeah. I’m down another pound.” Again, it would have been less painful to melt the weight off with a blowtorch, but she wasn’t telling Robin that. Her friend was about to discover that for herself. Still, she wondered why it’d been so easy to convince Robin to work out with her. “What made you decide to do it?” Libby’s pace had increased and she worked her arms at her sides.

  “What?” Robin gasped.

  “Join the gym.”

  “Oh … I don’t know.”

  Libby frowned. She knew Robin, or thought she did. The two of them were cut from the same cloth. Robin didn’t do anything without a reason, without knowing the end result. Then it hit her. There was more going on than sweating off a few extra pounds. Robin was doing this for a man.

  “You dating anyone?” Libby asked, hoping to sound casual.

  Robin jerked her head toward her so fast she might have injured her neck. “No. What makes you ask?”

  “No reason.” Libby wasn’t sure Robin believed her. The machine had her half-running now and at an angle that made talking impossible. She kept her gaze focused ahead instead of looking at the timer that flashed the minutes left in her program. Directly in front of her several men lifted weights, their upper arm muscles bulging. Frankly, they were just the distraction she needed. Eye candy.

  Robin and Libby finished at the same time. Libby grabbed a towel and wiped the sweat from her face. Robin looked about the same as Libby had her first day—as if she were ready to vomit.

  “You okay?”

  Robin stared back at her. “You know CPR, right?”

  Libby smiled. “Yeah, I got certified in high school.”

  They entered the locker room and sat down on the bench to collect their breath.

  “When was the last time you went on a date?” Robin asked.

  Libby had to think about it. Following her divorce she’d basically avoided relationships. Getting involved hadn’t seemed like a good idea until she made partner, if she wanted to avoid the pitfalls of her failed marriage. Their conflicting schedules certainly didn’t help. Joe cooked the dinner shift while Libby maintained a normal daytime work schedule, so they rarely saw each other. By the time she was home from the office, he was already at the diner. After a while they became more roommates than lovers. As the months progressed their worlds seemed to grow farther and farther apart.

  Libby vividly remembered the day she’d arrived home to discover that Joe was at the apartment instead of the diner. At first she’d been thrilled to see him, but then she realized why he was there. He was packing up to move out.

  “Joe?” she’d asked, hardly able to believe this could be happening. Even now she felt her stomach tightening at the memory.

  Her husband refused to look at her. Instead he continued collecting his clothes and personal items almost as if she wasn’t in the room.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “It should be obvious.” He continued to avoid eye contact, intent on carting his shirts from the closet to the suitcase he’d spread open atop their bed. “Nothing’s going to change, Libby. You have your life and I have mine. You don’t want to admit it, so I will. You’ve got dreams, and that’s great. You’re the best, but I’m a regular Joe, no pun intended. I don’t want anything more than a wife and a few kids.”

  “But I thought we agreed—”

  Joe cut her off. “I can see the writing on the wall. There’s never going to be a convenient time for you to have one baby, let alone two or three.”

  She opened her mouth to argue, but he continued.

  “A family would hold you back. I’m not angry, Libby, really I’m not. I want you to have the things you want. But I have dreams, too, and my dreams clash with yours. It’s time we recognized we aren’t both going to be able to have the things we want … at least not together.”

  He was right, and deep down Libby had recognized the truth of it. After a few weak arguments she let him go. It’d broken her heart to watch him cart his suitcases out the door.

  Their divorce was probably one of the most amicable ones in history. Once it was final, they met for lunch and hugged afterward. Libby cried against his shoulder and Joe held her close and tight. Then they broke apart, walking away in separate directions. He’d remarried within a year, a waitress from the diner. Although they were no longer in contact, she wished Joe love and happiness.

  That was three years ago. Three long years. She regretted her failed marriage, and afterward had thrown herself into her career even more. Following her mother’s advice had sustained her through the loneliness and the sense of loss that accompanied her breakup with Joe. Perhaps she could look back at that painful period after this morning and feel that it had all been worth it.

  “A date,” she repeated. “It must be more than a year ago now. What makes you ask?”

  Robin shrugged.

  “What about you?”

  “Longer.”

  Libby sympathized. “Anyone interested?” Clearly Robin had a reason for bringing up the subject again.

  “A man interested in me?” Robin repeated. “Not that I’ve noticed.”

  “Anyone you find interesting?” Libby asked.

  Robin popped up like a jack-in-the box and headed for the shower. “I’ve got to get to work.”

  So that was it. Robin had a crush on someone. Well, well, well. Good for her. And they were enough alike that Libby understood the problem: Robin didn’t h
ave a clue what to do about it. Libby wouldn’t have had, either. Relationships were often complicated, and getting involved could get sticky. It must be someone in Robin’s office. Although it was tempting, Libby didn’t pry. Robin would tell her when she was ready.

  Libby grabbed her towel and followed her friend into the shower room.

  She was dressing when Robin joined her. “I went back to that yarn store,” Libby mentioned casually, hooking up her bra.

  “Oh? Are you knitting a project?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What are you knitting?”

  “Preemie hats for Seattle General. I knit ten Friday night and ran out of yarn so I went back on Saturday to buy more. I knit another twenty over the weekend.”

  Robin laughed. “As compulsive as ever.” She grabbed her workout bag. “See you Wednesday.”

  “See ya,” Libby echoed.

  Libby returned to A Good Yarn that same morning only to find a sign on the door indicating that the store was closed on Mondays. Seeing movement inside, she peered through the front window, her nose pressed against the glass and her hands at the sides of her head to block the reflection. She saw Casey and Lydia inside the shop.

  Casey noticed her and hurried to the door, unlatching it. “We’re closed.”

  “So I see. I came to drop off the hats I knit,” Libby explained. “I’ll come back tomorrow.”

  “Come in,” Lydia invited, joining her daughter. “I was just doing some paperwork and Casey and Ava were going to walk over to Seattle General to deliver the hats.”

  “If you’d like, I’ll go with you,” Libby said. She wasn’t sure what made her volunteer, but she could see from the way Lydia reacted that she was glad that she wouldn’t need to send the girls off without an adult.

  “That would be great.”

  “My pleasure.” She had the time, so why not?

 

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