“You wish.” The comment was more playful than Lara meant it to be. She’d spoken without thinking. She cleared her throat and changed the subject. “Anyway. Why don’t you go set up in the living room? I’ll get the mug.”
Paige nodded silently. The bed creaked as Lara climbed over it, and the floorboards echoed its groans as Paige padded away.
The privacy was nice. Lara relished in it. She used the quiet to collect herself. What was it that she was even supposed to be looking for? The mug. Right. Lara opened a box labeled kitchenware and fished a ceramic mug from its cocoon of bubble wrap and copies of the newspaper so old that Paige hadn’t taken over the company and renamed it yet. Lara had fond memories of reading The Perryodicals when she was younger, and she took a moment to skim a few headlines. It was another aspect of her life that Paige had tainted for her.
A quick stop by the bathroom to check her makeup and Lara was pouring tea in the kitchen. Her own cup was cold now, but she wasn’t much in the mood to enjoy it anyway, even if it probably would help her feel a little calmer.
When Lara returned to the living room, it looked lived in for the first time in months. Paige had brought her usual clutter and had taken over Lara’s coffee table as the base of her operation. A hefty camera sat poised on a tripod facing the couch, and a strobe light washed the space in white.
Lara had given plenty of interviews before, but the ones that turned into something as serious as this were still intimidating. “You didn’t tell me you were making a big production out of this.”
“We’re low-budget, not low quality. All of the finalists are getting video interviews for the website.”
“You actually care about the website?” Lara asked. “I thought you were all gung-ho on good old-fashioned print journalism.”
“I’m also gung-ho on keeping my business alive with ad revenue. I do as little with the website as I have to. The interns mostly take care of that aspect.” Paige fiddled with the settings on her camera. “Maybe you could grab some of your work and show it off?”
Lara rolled her eyes. “You could have told me that before I left the bedroom.”
“Didn’t want to ruin the mood.”
Lara hummed and practically shoved the mug into Paige’s chest. She took a half-hearted sip, and Lara let herself enjoy the bitter grimace that twisted her face as she swallowed. From the bedroom, she grabbed a box of old knitting projects. In the box were prototypes of Festive Feline Fashion designs as well as milestone pieces like the first scarf she’d made as a kid and the first pair of baby booties Betty had knitted her when she was born. Lara settled into the couch with the box at her side and looked pointedly toward Paige.
“Ready?” Paige asked.
“As I’ll ever be.”
The camera’s red light flipped on, and Lara tried not to squint with the brightness of the lights around her.
“I’ve read a lot of your interviews, and it seems like people always ask you how Festive Feline Fashion started. What they don’t ask is how you got into knitting in the first place. What piqued your interest in the hobby?”
Paige had done her research again, and this time Lara appreciated the effort. It was actually a question that made her think and reminisce. The answer came out easily, not forced or preplanned.
“My grandma started to teach me before I was even old enough to remember it. It’s in my blood. Just something I’ve always done. We’d knit while we watched cartoons. She’d take me to her knitting circles on weekends. I got good at it early on, and I loved it, so I kept doing it. I never really thought to stop.”
Paige smiled at her from behind the camera. Lara lost herself in the story. It wasn’t as hard as she’d thought it would be. After about fifteen minutes of questioning, Lara was feeling pretty good about herself. She couldn’t believe she was sitting in the exact same spot where she’d so recently botched that interview with Roger Feldman.
“That was good,” Paige said, “but I think I know how we can make it better.”
Or maybe it hadn’t gone so well after all. “Oh? How so?”
“Let’s go visit your grandmother.”
“What?”
“She’s such a big inspiration to you. I want to see you guys together.”
That wasn’t a horrible idea. Maybe sharing it with her grandmother would help Lara enjoy the journey.
“Let’s do it.”
When Lara walked into Room 319, her grandmother was the same as ever, and Lara considered it a victory that she didn’t look worse. Betty didn’t need to look up from her needlework to greet her. “Hi, Lara.”
“Hey, Gam Gam. I have a surprise for you.”
“Oh?” That caught Betty’s attention. She looked up as Paige walked into the room behind Lara and gave a polite wave.
“Grandma, this is Paige Daley. She’s the chief editor of The Daily Page.”
Betty dismissed Lara’s introduction. “You act like we’ve never met. And like you never dated her.”
Lara rubbed the back of her neck. “I wasn’t sure if you remembered.”
“Remembered? She brought me green bean casserole last week.”
Lara whipped around to confront Paige and was greeted by smug grin. “What?”
Paige shrugged. “Just because we broke up doesn’t mean I had to stop being friends with your grandma. She’s nice. She lets me borrow books and tells good stories about the history of the town. Who did you think told me you were back in Perry again?”
Of course. Of course Betty would still be friends with her ex. Of course Paige would put more effort into her relationship with Lara’s grandmother than with Lara.
She looked between them, unsure of what to say, unsure of how to process any of this.
“It’s nice to see you two together again.” Betty’s face was stone-cold unsurprised, and that might have annoyed Lara more than Paige’s smugness. There was a clear implication to her words, and a protest formed on Lara’s tongue, but Paige beat her to the punch.
“We’re not back together, Betty,” Paige said. “I’m actually here because Lara has some other good news.”
Lara hated the way Paige said ‘other.’ As if she and Paige getting back together would be good news instead of a sign that Lara had officially lost her mind.
“Let me guess: you’re going to be writing my obituary?” Betty smiled, but the room went quiet. The air was suddenly colder.
Paige looked as flushed as Lara felt.
“Relax,” Betty said. “I know I’m going to die. I’m having fun with it. If I can laugh about it, you should be able to too.”
Like hell Lara would laugh about that. If Betty was okay with dying, Lara would bear the grief for both of them. “It’s not that, Gam Gam. It’s better. I’m a finalist in the Hometown Heroes contest.”
Betty clasped her hands together in a swift clap. “I knew people would vote for you, Lara.”
“We were kind of here to talk about you too,” Lara said.
“Me?” Betty asked.
“Yes, you. You’re the whole reason I started knitting. Without you, I never would have started my business. Paige wants to talk about how we used to work together when I was a kid.”
“If you have time,” Paige added, ever the professional.
Betty smiled. “You two better sit down. I’ve got all the time in the world.”
Lara wished that were true.
CHAPTER 10
More than anything, Lara was looking forward to a Tight Knit meeting without Paige.
The universe did not let her have nice things.
Paige wasn’t there in person, but if anything, she had even more presence at this meeting than she’d had at the first one. She was on everyone’s lips, and her name was everywhere Lara looked. Several ladies had brought copies of the Daily Page article. Paige had given it decent space. The writing took up more than half a page, and the grainy black and white photo of the group gave the column even more presence. It was certainly more pronounced than
April’s advert, and Lara had been impressed by what Paige had done with that.
She had to admit—the article was good. Paige knew how to write, and she hit all the key points: The sense of community knitting provides. The heritage of it. The blending of generations. All her quotes were great, and Lara was surprised by how sophisticated some of the members sounded in print. April especially sounded like a real community leader. Of course, it shouldn’t have come as a surprise to Lara, but seeing the fruits of their labor documented in print like that made everything feel that much more real and validated.
Lara was tempted to frame the picture herself. It was a grainy, blurry, smudgy, black-and-white mess of ink that would never compare to the original digital image Paige had stored on her camera somewhere, but it was them. The whole group—young and old and everything in between, posed and smiling in the center of April’s living room, proudly displaying works in progress. Lara was right there in the center, smashed between April and Kerry. When she looked at the smile on her own face, she could almost believe that she was happy.
The first ten minutes of the meeting were filled up with people pointing to themselves in the photograph and lamenting their crooked smile or mid-blink eyes. They pointed to each other and complemented the way their friends’ hair looked or how cute so-and-so looked with little Bobby in their lap. The room was giddy with excitement, possibly even more so than it had been during the first meeting. It was a refreshing relief to have good press for once. It was like seeing the first few big articles written about Festive Feline Fashion. Reading that first bit of good press for her business had been out-of-this-world incredible, but the Tight Knit exposure was better. The publication might be smaller, and the buzz might be buried in the back of a local newspaper, but this time, Lara had people to share the excitement with.
While talking to April about the spread, she felt a tap on her shoulder.
“Hey, stranger.”
The voice that greeted her was familiar, but it wasn’t until Lara turned around that she placed it. “Hey, Kerry.”
She sat next to Lara. “Your friend wrote a really good article.”
“She’s not really my friend.”
“Oh.” Kerry seemed taken aback. Perhaps she’d been a bit too defensive. “April said you knew her, so I just assumed.”
One part of Lara was upset with April for saying anything about her and Paige. Another part was extremely thankful that April hadn’t gone into more detail than “they know each other.” A third part was intrigued that Kerry had been talking to April about her. Although, with the way Paige had run Kerry off like a hissing cat marking her territory, Lara shouldn’t have been surprised that Kerry would ask around about who she was.
How much of her history with Paige did Lara want to give away?
“We used to be friends,” Lara said, because that was technically true. Once upon a time, she and Paige had been in an albeit brief friendship before deciding to date. “Not anymore, though.”
Kerry nodded thoughtfully. A moment passed before she spoke. “So, ex?”
Lara’s throat constricted with a stammer that no doubt gave away everything. No sense in denying it now. She was caught. “Well, yeah.”
Kerry smiled. It wasn’t the sheepish smile Lara was used to. This one was smug, tilted at one side as if a fishing hook had caught the edge of her lip. Lara had never seen Kerry so confident. It was a good look on her. “Well, it was a good article. And it’s so cool seeing the pictures. The last time I was in the newspaper it was for winning a spelling bee in second grade.”
“That’s impressive. I was always bad at spelling bees. Stage fright.”
“If you think that’s impressive, wait ’til you see the work I’ve been doing.” Kerry got up and disappeared into the crowd. When she came back, she was holding a nearly-finished scarf that was the same coral blue color as Paige’s eyes.
Lara had almost forgotten they were here to knit.
“I’ve been practicing,” Kerry said. “I’m basically a pro now, all thanks to you.” She elbowed Lara lightly in the side. “When I start my own knitting company, I’ll give you some credit.”
“You gonna put me out of business?”
“Hey, that’s the capitalist dream, isn’t it?” Kerry looked down at the scarf thoughtfully. “I’ve been waiting for a week to show you this. I could have called and talked to you about it, but I didn’t want to be too clingy. I know I’ve always been awkward at the whole dating thing, but I figured I’d try to have more game than that. So instead I waited until we both came to a knitting circle. Clearly that’s the epitome of game.”
Kerry was so direct. Lara was taken aback, but, for once, in a good way. She wished she could be that open about her own insecurities.
“I happen to think knitting circles are pretty cool,” Lara said. “And I’m pretty impressed with your stitch. Still needs a bit of improvement, but not bad for a beginner.”
“I’ll take that compliment. I was hoping for a bit more, but I’ll take what I can get. It’s, admittedly, deserved.” Kerry tugged lightly at the scarf, and a loose thread instantly came undone. “Yup. Could use more work.”
“If it makes you feel any better, I don’t sew much. I kind of remember what they taught us in Home Ec. class, and my grandma showed me how to sew a button back on if need be, but I’m definitely not a professional tailor.”
Kerry perked up. “Maybe I can teach you a thing or two then, Spellmeyer.” Kerry elbowed her in the ribs, and Lara cringed at the jab and the name. “You’ll have to come down to Taylor Made some time.”
“Yeah? I may need a suit tailored.”
“Sounds perfect. It’s a date.”
Was it? Visiting Kerry at work hardly felt like a traditional date, but at the same time, it didn’t not feel like a date. Their trip to Clandestine Orchards had been fun. There was something there with Kerry. They were two snips of thread from the same ball of yarn, and Lara hadn’t felt the buzz of infatuation like this in a long time. Kerry made her feel like a schoolgirl again, crushing on pretty girls in magazines and in the upper classes, ones she knew she would never have. Only, Kerry was right here next to her, not bothering to hide her own schoolgirl crush.
Lara deserved to have this little bit of fun, right?
They fell into a comfortable silence. Kerry worked on her stitching, sighing every so often as she twisted the fabric into an awkward angle and was forced to undo a part of her work. Lara watched her with amusement. Kerry was focused and concentrated. Her forehead had more knots than her thread. Lara offered to help once or twice, but Kerry shooed her away, insistent upon doing the work herself. Lara eventually gave up and went back to her own work, which actually was work this time: a red and white sweater with a zigzag pattern for a Maine Coon in Minnesota.
Lara was in a room with more than a dozen people, and attention shouldn’t have surprised her, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was staring at her. Lara tore her gaze away from her work and found Glenda smiling at her from a loveseat on the opposite wall. Lara relaxed—relieved—and smiled back. After a moment, Glenda set aside her work, got up, and came over. She sat on the arm of the couch, near eye level with Lara despite the fact that she was sitting higher up.
“Hi, Glenda. How are you?” Lara put on her most polite tone. It didn’t take much forcing. She was happy to see Glenda back here.
“I’m great, dear. In the paper and everything.” She flashed Lara a knowing grin, dentures glowing a pearly shade of white. “Have you heard anything new about your grandmother? I haven’t been in to see her for a few days.”
“She’s about the same,” Lara said, deciding to be honest. “The surgery scar is healing up nice, though. They don’t need to monitor her quite as much. She’s able to move around a bit more with the oxygen tank. They might even let her go home soon with hospice.”
There was joy in her words, but it was a hopeful premise that was ultimately false. When Betty finally did come home,
it was only temporary.
“Oh, that’s wonderful,” Glenda said. “Let us all know her release date as soon as the doctors tell you.”
The only person Lara would have to tell was Glenda. Word would spread instantly after that. Sometimes the gossip chain in Perry could use its powers for good. “I will. Don’t worry. And if you find out before me, make sure to let me know.”
She chuckled. “I’ll do that too. Do you happen to know Betty’s measurements by any chance?”
For the first time, Lara really noticed what Glenda was working on. The sweater in her lap was gorgeous. Neater than anything Lara had ever produced; it sported a complex laced pattern that hurt Lara’s brain to think about recreating. Glenda was working on it like it was nothing, and she was working fast too. She certainly hadn’t brought the same piece with her last meeting; Lara would have noticed. Glenda was good, better than Lara could ever hope to be in her wildest dreams.
Betty would cherish a sweater like that for the rest of her life.
“I can get them for you.”
CHAPTER 11
“Does your grandmother do anything but read?” Genie asked as she scanned the fifth book in the stack.
“She knits,” Lara said, “but she also reads while she knits.”
Genie continued scanning through the pile one by one like a grocery store clerk, stopping only to give the occasional comment. “A medical encyclopedia? Really? She must be bored out of her mind, Spellmeyer. Get her some trashy romance novels or something. What kind of grandkid are you?”
“This is what she told me to get. I’m not going to risk her wrath. If she pummels me with that medical encyclopedia, I’ll never make it.”
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