The Knitting Diaries

by Debbie Macomber

  After collecting her order sheets, she put them on a clipboard and went to work opening the first box.

  Color seemed to burst out into the storeroom. She couldn’t help touching the different fibers and imagining the possibilities. Forcing herself to remember how much work she had to do, she compared the packing slip to her order form, then began carrying the yarn into the store.

  At six she locked the front door and shooed Adeline out for the night. She dragged boxes into the main store and got serious about stocking shelves. By seven she was dusty and a little hungry but before she could decide on which takeout she wanted, someone knocked on the back door.

  She opened it to find T.J. standing there. As always, he looked tall and lean, handsome. His dark eyes twinkled.

  “I got a call that you were in over your head.”

  She hadn’t seen him in nearly a week and she had a feeling their kiss was the reason. It didn’t take a trained professional to know he was a man still living in the past. A smart, sensible woman would acknowledge the foolishness of even trying with a man like him and look for someone slightly less broken.

  “I’m learning that it is possible to drown in yarn,” she said. “Who knew?”

  They both spoke lightly, as if they were friends. But the truth was something different. Tension crackled between them. She could practically see the sparks. Despite the fact that she knew it was a mistake, she wanted to throw herself at him.

  He stepped into the back room and shut the door behind him. “I meant to come by before. I’ve been busy.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Right. You’re buying the business. Everything going well?”

  “Yes. We’ve even met with an attorney. That makes it official.”

  The room seemed to be shrinking as she spoke, or maybe it was just her. Her chest was tight and her skin felt hot. No matter how deeply she inhaled, she couldn’t seem to catch her breath.

  Then there was T.J. Looking away from him was impossible and he seemed equally caught up in her. They weren’t touching, but she was more aware of him than she’d ever been of a man before.

  “I need to tell you something,” he said. “About what I do.”

  “You’re a songwriter.”

  “Not exactly. I am in the music business, though. Just not…”

  She didn’t know who had moved first. Maybe him, maybe her. One second he was talking, the next she was in his arms, her mouth crushed against his.

  He kissed with an intensity, a hunger, that made her knees go weak. His hands were everywhere—her hair, her shoulders, her back, her hips. There was a desperation in his touch—as if he needed the physical connection or he would die. A feeling she could relate to.

  She parted for him and he swept into her mouth. She kissed him back, their tongues brushing, but it wasn’t enough. The need between them demanded more. It demanded everything they had.

  She touched his broad shoulders, felt the heat of his skin beneath his soft cotton shirt. He was strong, every muscle straining. For more or for control, she wasn’t sure.

  He kissed his way down her jaw, to her neck. He licked the sensitive skin right behind her ear, nibbled down to her collarbone, then pressed an openmouthed kiss at the V of her T-shirt.

  Her belly clenched and her thighs began trembling. Wanting devoured her, making T.J. impossible to resist. When he reached for the hem of her T-shirt, she helped him ease it over her head. When he removed her bra and cupped her small breasts in his large hands, she moaned. And when he drew her tight nipples into his mouth, she knew that dying right now would be perfectly fine. Nothing could ever be better than this.

  They sank to the floor. Packing paper proved to be a lumpy mattress, but neither of them cared. She tugged at his shirt, he slipped off her jeans. When she was naked, he used his mouth and his hands to make her writhe beneath him.

  Even as he moved his fingers in and out of her, his thumb rubbing that single spot of perfect pleasure, he kissed her deeply. She kissed him back, wrapping her arms around him as her body strained toward her release.

  It had been so long since she’d been touched like this, so long since she’d felt the building erotic pressure, she started to think she’d forgotten how to get over the top. Then he pushed in deeper still and she was ripped apart by a pleasure so intense, she had to cry out.

  He held her through the shuddering release and when she was finally still, he knelt between her still trembling thighs and pushed into her.

  She wrapped her arms around his hips, drawing him to her, watching him watch her. Each stroke filled her so exquisitely, she found herself reaching for that place again. The second time, he came with her, his gaze locked with hers, as if reassuring them both, he knew who he was with.

  Eleven

  Robyn lay on the crinkled paper, feeling both a little slutty and very content. Her body was satisfied, her heart still pounding and she was probably going to be sore in the morning. What more could a girl ask for?

  She smiled at T.J., who was next to her. “At the risk of repeating myself, wow.”

  Humor brightened his dark eyes. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “So I probably shouldn’t point out you’re naked.”

  He glanced down at his body. “How did that happen?”

  “It was one of those things.”

  The humor faded and he kissed her. “It was more than that.” His warm hands moved over her body. “You’re amazing.”

  She snuggled close to him. “So are you.”

  He drew back after a minute and stood, then held out a hand to help her to her feet. While she was aware they were both naked in the storeroom, he didn’t seem to notice.

  “We have to talk,” he told her.

  “Not what I’m used to hearing from a male, but okay. I’m listening.”

  He grabbed her panties and bra and handed them to her, and reached for his own boxers.

  “It’s about who I am and what I do. What I want to do.”

  She knew he was a man with a tragic past, but not much else. “More songwriting?”

  “No.” He pulled on his jeans and tugged on his shirt. “I want us… I want us…”

  He stopped speaking and turned away, swearing.

  “I can’t believe I did this.”

  The words were quiet—almost as if she weren’t supposed to hear.

  He turned back to her. “I never thought… I don’t want… What happened before—it can’t be this. I can’t do this.”

  At first she didn’t understand. Can’t do what? And then she knew. He didn’t want to have another relationship. Feeling guilty and needing to take a relationship slow was one thing, but not wanting to move on and have a life was something else.

  Pain ripped through her as she realized she’d given herself to someone who wasn’t free to give himself back. She knew that for those brief minutes, she’d been a part of his life. Maybe his future. And he knew it, too.

  His hands slowed and his eyes seemed to see something she couldn’t. Which made sense. She hadn’t been a part of his past.

  She turned away, not wanting to see any more. She pulled on her jeans and slipped into her T-shirt. She’d barely finished stepping into her shoes when he spoke.

  “I need to go.”

  She nodded. “I figured.”

  “I didn’t mean… This wasn’t…”

  She drew in a breath, reminded herself that she would survive this disappointment, just like she’d survived countless others, then turned to face him.

  Gone was the happy, handsome man she knew. Gone was the passionate lover who had so pleased her. Instead she saw the man she’d met when she’d first arrived back home. A slightly challenging stranger who looked as if he blamed her for it all.

  “You’re allowed to have a life,” she said, knowing he wouldn’t listen, but having to say the words anyway. “It’s okay to be happy.”

  He stared at her as if he’d never seen her before. “You
’re wrong.”

  It was the last thing he said and then he was gone.

  Robyn put away the rest of the stock, cross-checking her orders against the packing slips. She moved automatically, not allowing herself to think about what had happened. It was after midnight by the time she was done. She was shaking, probably from hunger and exhaustion, she thought as she walked home through the quiet streets.

  Her grandmother had left the light on for her in the living room. Robyn let herself in, then went directly to the bathroom where she showered in water as hot as she could stand. When she had brushed her teeth, she made her way to her bedroom, only to find her grandmother sitting in the corner chair, waiting for her.

  “Are you all right?” Eleanor asked.

  “I’m fine. I was putting away the new yarn.”

  “I knew you’d be working late.” Her grandmother smiled. “I just had a feeling something was wrong.”

  Maternal intuition or wisdom that came with age. Something to look forward to, Robyn told herself.

  “I don’t think T.J. is going to be coming around much anymore,” she said quietly, crossing to the bed and taking a seat. “I knew he was a risk. A man with a lost soul seems so romantic on the outside, but there’s a place inside of him that I can’t reach.”

  “But you fell in love with him anyway?”

  Robyn sighed. She hadn’t been able to resist. Not his kindness, the way he cared, his laughter. “Dumb, huh?”

  “Love is never dumb.”

  “Just misplaced?”

  “Only the two of you can answer that.”

  Robyn drew her knees to her chest. “That’s the problem. There isn’t a ‘two of us.’ He made it clear he wasn’t ready to move on. If he needed time, I could give him that. But he’s not willing to go there.”

  Eleanor’s steady gaze never left Robyn’s face. “What are you going to do?”

  “Nothing. I can’t make him heal. Only he can do that.”

  “But you love him.”

  “I’ve only known him a couple of months. I’ll survive.”

  “Maybe he’s just not ready now.”

  Robyn wanted that to be true, but she had a feeling it wasn’t that simple. T.J. had suffered a huge loss.

  “I can’t help thinking he’s so defined by grief that nothing else has meaning for him. I’m not sure it matters why. The point is, he may never be ready. And I didn’t come home looking for love.”

  “But you found it all the same,” her grandmother said gently.

  “Maybe, but I’ve just spent the past six years chasing a dream that never came true. I’m not going to waste the next six years waiting for T.J. to figure out that it’s okay to be with me.” She shrugged. “I’ll deal. I’m strong. I can get over him. What I’m going to take from this is I’m ready to have a serious relationship. I want to get married and have babies. I want to love and be loved.”

  Eleanor rose. She walked slowly, favoring her still healing knee. When she reached the bed, she kissed the top of Robyn’s head.

  “Have I told you how proud I am of you?” her grandmother asked. “You’ve become a wonderful woman.”

  “I don’t feel very wonderful.”

  “Still, you are. I’m so grateful to have you in my life.”

  Robyn stood and hugged her. “I’m the one who’s grateful for everything. You gave me the freedom to test my wings and a place to fly home to.” She laughed. “Okay— I’m about to break into a Bette Midler song. I really am tired.”

  “Then you should go to sleep. Don’t worry. Everything will work out. You’ll see.”

  Robyn wanted to believe her, but knew she couldn’t. Eleanor hadn’t seen T.J.’s stark horror when he’d realized what he’d done. She might not be the first woman to realize she couldn’t compete with a ghost, but she wasn’t going to get caught in the trap of thinking anything would change. She’d learned her lesson and now she would move on.

  Thinking about moving on and actually doing it turned out to be two different things. Robyn spent the next couple of days in an emotional fog, going through the motions of living without being able to feel anything but rejection. By Monday she was sleeping better and eating enough to be working toward her goal of putting on twenty pounds by the end of summer. She still tensed every time the door to the shop opened. She still wanted every customer to be T.J. and she still saw him every time she closed her eyes, but the first step of healing had been taken.

  Adeline came into the store with an armful of cruise brochures. She and Eleanor pored over them, trying to decide where they were going to go first.

  “I can’t believe you’re traveling without me,” Marion said, sounding slightly put out.

  “You’re getting married,” Eleanor said gently. “You’ll be traveling with your new husband.”

  “And having sex,” Adeline snapped. “Which is more to the point. Want to trade?”

  Robyn grinned as she walked by the craft table where the three of them sat.

  “But we’re friends,” Marion protested. “You’ll be having fun without me.”

  “So will you,” Adeline reminded her. “Better fun.”

  “Maybe later the three of us can go away together,” Eleanor said. “How about that?”

  Marion brightened. “I’d like that.” She glared at Adeline. “And so would you.”

  “It wouldn’t stink.”

  They chatted about the Mexican Riviera and the possibility of a transition cruise that went from the Mediterranean back to Puerto Rico. Every now and then, Robyn felt them watching her and wondered how much her grandmother had shared. Whether or not they’d noticed her less energetic mood. They couldn’t have missed the fact that T.J. hadn’t been in the store. He hadn’t called, either. If it weren’t for the ache in her broken heart, she would wonder if he’d ever existed at all.

  A little after three, Marion called to her. “I think you have voice mail. Your purse is beeping.”

  Robyn hurried into the back room, telling herself not to expect anything. Anyone could have left a message. T.J. didn’t even have her cell number. But as she reached into her purse, she felt her heart skip a couple of beats. Then she glanced at the screen of her cell and saw a familiar 212 phone number.

  Her agent, she told herself. Not T.J. The sooner she stopped hoping, the sooner it would all be over.

  She listened to the voice mail, which was a curt message asking her to call as soon as possible. She dialed the number, then waited to be put through to Don.

  “Finally,” he said when she’d identified herself. “I’ve been hovering by the phone, and let me tell you, I’ve got a lot to do. How are you? I have news.”

  Typical Don, she thought, smiling at his fast talk. “Okay. What’s the news?”

  “You’re not going to believe it. You should sit. Are you sitting?”

  She perched on a nearby stool. “I’m sitting.”

  “Great. I got a call.” He named a famous and powerful producer. “It’s a new musical and there’s a great supporting part that’s perfect for you. I mean it, Robyn, it’s like they wrote it with you in mind. And get this. They want you. They called me a couple of hours ago and want you in their office first thing. So get on a plane and get here.”

  Another chance at the dream, she thought, stunned by his words.

  “Are you listening?” Don continued. “They called me specifically to talk about you. This doesn’t happen every day, Robyn. This is the break you’ve been waiting for. There’s serious support behind this project. We’re talking prestige, recognition. Did I mention money?”

  Robyn held on to her cell phone and waited for the information to sink in. Her big break. After all this time.

  Her gaze dropped to a couple of boxes of yarn she’d yet to unpack. There was a new class for beginners starting next week and she’d found the perfect scarf pattern for them. Eleanor still needed help around the house and what about Marion’s wedding? That was in less than two weeks.

  The tr
uth was, she was happy here. Happier than she’d been in a long time. Even with T.J. breaking her heart, she wanted to stay exactly where she was. And yet…

  She couldn’t help thinking her mother would want her to try again, as would her grandmother. But what did she want?

  “I don’t know,” she said softly, interrupting Don mid-sale’s pitch.

  “…touring company. What? Did you just say no?”

  “Not exactly. I have to think about this.”

  “What is there to think about?” he demanded. “What the hell is wrong with you? This is the chance of a lifetime.”’

  “I know. That’s why I have to think. Give me a couple of days.”

  “One day,” he said, speaking between what sounded like clenched teeth. “Damn, Robyn, you’re killing me.”

  “One day,” she agreed. She owed it to herself and those who loved her to think this through. “Then I’ll call.”

  “You’d better. I can’t believe you’re not saying yes.”

  “I still might.”

  “If you don’t get back to me tomorrow morning, we’re through. I won’t represent you.”

  “I understand. Bye, Don.”

  Robyn closed her phone and put it back in her purse, then stood and drew in a breath. Talk about unexpected. When God closed a door, He really did open a window.

  Her grandmother walked into the back room. “Is everything all right?” she asked.

  Robyn turned to her and smiled. “That was my agent. There’s a part in a play he wants me to audition for. He swears the producers are asking for me by name. It’s my big break.”

  She said all the words carefully, wondering what she would feel if she said yes. Or perhaps more important, what would happen if she said no.

  “What did you tell him?”

  “I said I had to think about it.”

  Eleanor studied her. “Why?”

  Robyn told herself to breathe. Her stomach was in knots and her head hurt. “I want to be sure. I said I was starting over. That I was done with that part of my life. I’m ready for the next chapter.”