Stages of Grace

by Carey Heywood

  My mind will not rest. I am so focused on all of the wonderful moments with Jon and this overpowering sense of loss. I picture everything that won't happen now because I've left. No wedding, no first home, no family of my own. Tears flow freely as I imagine myself and Jon holding the baby we will never have. Sleep is no longer an option as I watch a light from behind the curtain grow brighter to announce the arrival of the sun. I slowly make my way to the bathroom to wash my face.

  Back in my room, I check my phone one last time before going in search of food. No response. Kate is by the pool eating breakfast. I pour myself a cup of coffee and make some toast before joining her. She asks how I slept. I know the dark circles under my eyes probably answer the question for her, but downplay it and say I slept fine. I can tell she isn’t buying it but am relieved that she doesn’t push the subject. We discuss our plans for the day. Kate is to play tour guide as I get my car registered.

  I plan to call my insurance company first to file the change of address. I make that call not long after breakfast but before I shower. My insurance is almost doubling. That job Ryan offered me is looking more like a life preserver now. I shower and dress simply in loose capri cargo-style pants and a long-sleeved, striped t-shirt. Kate is in the kitchen pulling out some meat from the freezer to thaw.

  "All set, Grace?"

  "Yes. I mean, if now is a good time."

  "Of course. Let’s go."

  After my car is registered and its emissions tested, we make our way back to Kate's house. On the way back, Kate asks me what I think of Ryan.

  "What do you mean?"

  "Do you fancy him?"

  "I'm not sure what you mean. I like him. He's a really nice guy."

  "Would you ever like to be more than friends with him?"

  "Kate, are you trying to set me up?"

  "So what if I am? Ryan is such a sweet boy. You could do worse."

  "I'm just not sure if I'm ready for anything like that. Besides, it would be weird working for him." I feel like I'm getting ahead of myself. "And most important, who knows if he likes me?"

  "I think he does" she says with a sly grin.

  "Well, has he said anything?"

  "Not directly, no—" I frown.

  "Well, there you go. No point in even thinking about it."

  "But he's so handsome."

  "Then you date him" I tease.

  She laughs. "If I was fifty years younger, I would. Hell, if I was thirty years younger, I'd at least think about it."

  I laugh and shake my head. As attractive and sweet as Ryan is, there is no way of knowing if he is interested, and most importantly, if I can even handle it. The smartest thing I can do for myself is to get settled before I even think about anything like that. No point in worrying about Ryan when I’m losing sleep over Jon. I check my phone again when we get back to Kate's. No message. Pleading exhaustion, I take a nap. When I wake up, Kate is by the pool knitting. I missed lunch.

  When Kate sees me, she says, "There's a plate for you in the microwave."

  I'm already enjoying living with such a good cook. I reheat my lunch and bring it out to eat. Kate's knitting group is meeting the next day so she's working on finishing another prayer shawl.

  Kate senses my interest in what she is doing. "Would you like to learn?"

  "Sure, if it wouldn't be any trouble."

  She sets her work on her lap and reaches into the basket beside her for a skein of pale yellow yarn and two thick metal needles.

  "Why are these needles so much bigger than the ones you are using right now?" I ask when she hands them to me.

  "I think it's easy to learn on bigger needles and the work will go faster as well. It's nice when you are first starting out to see progress."

  Kate pulls maybe half an arm length of yarn loose from the skein and shows me how to make the first knot on the needle with the excess yarn hanging down. She then loops the excess yarn with the yarn from the skein to create more loops on the needle. "This is called casting. Every knitting project starts like this. It just depends on what you are making as to how many stitches you need. This scarf will need less than the shawl I'm making."

  Kate hands the one needle with the loops to me. "Try adding a couple more stitches."

  I add three, and Kate seems pleased. She takes the needle back and shows me how to put the point of the other needle into the loop closest to the narrow end of the needle. Once both points are in, that first loop Kate pulls from the skein to add another loop, pulling it through the first loop. I watch her work that first row. The stitches move from the first needle to the second needle with each new loop.

  "When you finish each row, you just turn the needle and start over." Kate passes the needles to me and watches as I slowly make new stitches. When Kate knits, she barely looks at her hands. Me, I have to concentrate on making each new loop.

  "Why are they getting so small? It's hard to even put my needle in the loop," I ask.

  Kate leans over to look at my needles "Oh, you're working too close to the point. Make sure to put the needle further through to keep it from getting so snug. If you only work the point of the needle, the loops will be too small to push further onto the needle." To illustrate this, Kate holds up her shawl and slowly knits a couple of stitches.

  I watch and try to duplicate Kate's movements, although not at her speed. I work to make my loops further down the needle and continue row by row. When I'm ten rows up, I count my stitches and see I now have twenty-seven, not twenty-five. When I show Kate, my mouth drops as Kate begins unraveling all of the work I have just done. I had added two stitches somewhere along the way, and Kate tells me to count each stitch to ensure I won't do it again. But all that work? I take my scarf back and now count each stitch. I am concentrating so intently I don't hear Ryan walk in.

  "And what are you making, Grace?"

  I jump.

  "I didn’t mean to startle you. You scare easy, or I'm truly a ninja"

  I laugh "I'm sorry. A ninja? Really? I just—never mind. I'm making a scarf," I say proudly, holding up my knitting.

  Ryan touches the ribbing delicately. "It's lovely, Grace."

  I flush. "I have an excellent teacher."

  "Yeah, Kate's brilliant. Did you know she made me a sweater?"

  "I did not." I turn to look at Kate.

  Now it’s Kate's turn to blush. "It was nothing."

  "I'll hear none of that. It's my favorite one."

  I look down and smile, adding row after row to my scarf. I have little to add to Kate and Ryan's conversation. It's hard to talk to someone while looking down the whole time and counting in my head. They don’t seem to mind. Hopefully Kate can tell I'm enjoying my work. I eventually set it aside to help her with dinner while Ryan sets the small table by the pool. This time, I’m a more active participant during our meal.

  "How was work?"

  "Good. Not very busy," he gestures to the sky. It's somewhat overcast.

  The sky is dark gray with heavy clouds that threaten rain. "Did it rain?"

  "Not here. Closer to work, yes."

  My first day without sun in Florida. It certainly fits my mood. I clear the table then go back to my scarf. There is something in the repetitive needle, loop, pull, count that soothes me. Kate and Ryan stay at the table, chatting over wine and occasionally looking over at me. Before long, the scarf is the length of my arm. I stop and proudly hold it up to show them. Kate comes over to sit by me to inspect it. I hold my breath, fearing she will unravel it again. Instead, she calls me a natural and hands it back to me.

  Ryan excuses himself not long after, and we go inside. I stay up, working on my scarf. There is something thrilling in taking loose string and making something tangible with it. I can wear this, maybe not often in Florida, but still. I am making something I can actually wear. After getting up to go to the bathroom, I’m surprised to see how late it is. Setting my project aside, I go to sleep. I had not known how tiring knitting could be. That, with the late hour, giv
es me little trouble sleeping.

  The scent of coffee wakes me the next morning. I look out the window. It's still gloomy, but I can see a hint of sun trying to break through. I wash up before heading into the kitchen. After pouring myself a cup of coffee, I join Kate by the pool. Kate had made a plate of fruit and cheese with a loaf of pear bread on the side. There is plenty for the both of us. I thank Kate when she hands me a smaller plate.

  "Did you stay up knitting?"

  "I did. My scarf is almost twice as long now. I meant to ask you yesterday. How will I know when to stop?"

  "If I make a scarf for myself, I try to make it long enough to loop around my neck a couple times. You can test it out using what you have so far."

  "Thanks. I will."

  "Grace, would you like to come with me to my knitting group today?"

  "Sure! Is that okay?"

  "Why wouldn’t it be?"

  "I don’t go to church."

  "That's fine. You don’t have to go to church, but if you ever want to, just let me know."

  "Alright. I'd love to go with you today."

  "Great." Kate gets up quickly, and I look at her in confusion. "I'm just going to call my friend to let her know I don’t need a ride."

  I nod and finish my breakfast. After taking a shower and getting dressed, I pick up my knitting and sit in the living room while Kate gets ready. I try to wrap my knitting around my neck and can get it to go around almost twice but very tightly and with no excess. I get back to work, still counting each stitch. There is one row where I almost add an extra stitch, but I catch myself as I do and stop. The existing stitches that I'm knitting into sometimes fray and look like more than one stitch. That's what I have to watch for.

  When Kate comes out, she seems surprised by how far I am on my scarf. "Did you stay up all night?"

  "Not all night," I confess.

  We take my car, and Kate directs me to her church. It's a large, white Spanish-style Catholic church.

  "This is beautiful," I say as we walk in, taking in the stained glass windows.

  "Thank you. Those windows are newer. We had to have them replaced after a hurricane five years ago."

  We enter through a side door and go down a hallway past some bathrooms to a small room with a table and chairs. There are already a few women there either sitting, already knitting, or gathered by a second smaller table that has some cookies and coffee set out. Kate introduces everyone who is there to me. I'm surprised by how excited they all are to meet me. It’s clear she has been speaking of me frequently during their weekly meetings. She directs me to one end of the table and gets settled while I snag a plate with some cookies. As more ladies flow in, they all come over to Kate to meet me. It’s cool to see how proud she is to show me off to all of her friends.

  Kate had finished her shawl last night, and it goes with maybe five other completed projects to be used for the parishioners. The group makes mostly shawls for people in their church who are either struggling with an illness themselves or of a family member and for family members who may have recently lost someone. Once a month, their priest will come and pray over the completed shawls. They're supposed to represent an embrace of God's love. I wasn't raised in any structured religion but feel I could have been comforted in having something like that after losing my parents so suddenly.

  Making my scarf is fun, but the idea of giving someone comfort during a difficult time is speaking to me, it feels like something I have to do. I want to make one as soon as I can. I'm not able to do much knitting during the meeting. All of the ladies want to hear about me and the move. I do my best to answer their questions, even when they start asking me about my nonexistent love life. My thoughts drift to this morning where I had again checked my phone for a message from Jon. Part of me thinks I'll never get one and that I should move on. It's just easier for me to hold out hope.

  I have to laugh when they start asking me about Ryan. He appears to have a following amongst the knitting ladies. I bite back a smile as Kate explains he had given her a ride here a couple of times, and one time, walked her in carrying something. He made something of an impact on the ladies who were there. They want to know anything I know about him and just about swoon when I tell them he offered me a job on our drive from Cleveland. At this point, Kate adds that he took me out dancing when I was here the last time, making me blush.

  The meeting is over before long, and I say goodbye to all of my grandmother's friends. I make grilled cheese sandwiches when we get back to the house. After lunch, Kate lays down while I work on my scarf. I stop when I get close to the end of the skein, not sure what to do and wondering if Kate has any more yellow yarn because the scarf still isn’t long enough. I log onto my laptop and begin a job search for medical receptionists. It's great that Ryan will hire me in the mean time, but that doesn’t seem like something I'll be able to do forever.

  There are plenty of doctor's offices, but few are hiring. I email my resume and the referral letter to a couple of places and then log off. Walking over to the window, I see the sun has made its appearance and decide to go for a swim. I had little use for my one suit in Cleveland. Now that I live in Florida, I may need to invest in a few more. I'm still in the pool when Ryan comes over. He takes off his shirt and joins me. I tease him about all the ladies from the knitting group. He loves it. Kate comes out not long after and starts knitting.

  Kate has a lasagna in the oven for dinner that night. While she knits, I ask her if she has any more yellow yarn, and if she does, how to connect it to the yarn I'm already working with. I get out of the water to go inside and get my scarf. I sit next to Kate as she walks me through it. Leaving a bit of excess, she just makes the next loop with the new yarn and continues to the end of the row.

  "But what do we do now with the pieces hanging out?"

  "If you weave them through going back a little, you will never see them." Kate pulls one of the strings back and forth through the row that has just been completed until I cannot see it anymore. "Now, when you are using smaller needles, you probably need to do that with a crochet hook and not your fingers."

  When she passes the needles back to me I grin, eager to knit some more.

  "Kate, you’ve created a monster."

  I look up like WHAT? Kate just laughs and pats me on the shoulder. I'm still damp, so I move to sit in a plastic armchair instead of the loveseat. I finish a few more rows and then go back inside to cook some broccoli to go with our meal after changing out of my suit. After we finish eating, Ryan asks what I have planned for my last few days of freedom.

  "I need to buy some new bathing suits."

  "I'll help," Ryan replies eagerly.

  I make a face at him and then continue. "I was figuring I would probably need to wear one at work, right?"

  "You'll probably start mainly working in the office, and then we'll go from there so you don’t have to get anything right away if you don’t need it otherwise."

  "I won't be in the water right away?"

  Ryan sees that I look upset by this. "Do you want to be? I just figured I'd ease you into it, but if you want to, well, what I'm trying to say is, it's up to you."

  "But you're the boss. It’s up to you."

  "Right. Well, I don’t feel like your boss, Grace." He sounds putout.

  I gulp "What do you feel like?"

  "Uh, your friend. So if you want to be in the water I'll put you in the water."

  "I want to be in the water." I smile, shyly.

  He doesn't hesitate. "Done"

  I grin and go back to knitting. Since I've learned what I’m doing when I accidentally add stitches, I pay extra attention to the loops and only count every tenth row or so. This improves my ability to follow the conversation and enables me to actually participate in it. I still move slowly in comparison to Kate and I have to watch what I'm doing whereas she rarely looks down. But I feel an intense feeling of satisfaction when I ask Kate how to end the scarf.

  "It's called binding off, dear
. Now take your needle and go through two stitches instead of one and then make your loop like normal. Alright, now push the new loop back onto the needle with all of the other stitches. Okay, and then put your needle through the first two loops again. See? You just do that all the way to the end and pull the lose yarn through."

  It feels awkward, but I slowly bind off all of the open loops. With the exception of needing to trim the loose yarn at the end, it is done. I swing it around my neck a few times and model it for them before running inside to see how it looks in the mirror in my room. I tilt my head as I gaze at my reflection. I love it. Sure, I'll probably have little use for a scarf in Florida, but the fact that I had made it myself is enough for me. Next, I decide I want to make a shawl for Kate.

  When I come back out, Ryan stops me in the kitchen. He's making bowls of ice cream for Kate and himself and asks if I want one as well. Not one to turn down ice cream, I hang out with him while he makes mine, asking for extra whipped cream. He raises a brow at me, which somehow makes me feel warm and silly for asking. I grab my bowl and Kate's before hurrying outside. I fumble Kate's bowl as I set it on the table beside her, blushing since Ryan is right behind me and sees it. I try to avoid his eyes as I sit down but can sense his gaze on me. I glance up at him just as he's putting a spoonful of ice cream in his mouth. His eyes hold mine in an almost sensual way. I feel my breath catch as he slowly drags the spoon from his lips.

  My eyes snap back down to my bowl before I close them. Then I hear him chuckle. That man. Turning to focus my attention on Kate, I ignore him, hoping he will get the hint. How am I going to work with him? Deciding that whatever he may or may not be doing is most likely all in my head, I feel calmer. When I finish my dish, I collect all of them and take them to the kitchen. When I come back out, I see Ryan has left without even saying goodbye. I brush aside how that makes me feel because it seems silly, like an overreaction.