The Knitting Diaries
Page 3
“Hello, Mel,” he said. He offered his hand, and Mel accepted.
“Good to see you again,” Tim said, although that was an exaggeration.
“You, too.” Mel’s returning comment lacked sincerity, at least in Tim’s opinion.
“This way, Daddy,” Ellen said, grabbing his hand. “I want to show you my bedroom.”
Tim followed his daughter to one of the closed doors. Ellen opened it and spread her arms wide. “See how big my room is?”
He stood with his hands on his hips. “Where do you want your bed?” he asked, relieved that she seemed more enthusiastic about the house.
“By the window.”
Clearly she’d given the matter some thought.
“Then I can stand on it and watch Baxter play in the yard.”
“Good idea.”
“And my dresser will go over here.” She bounded to the far side of the room to show him.
“Where are you going to put all your books?” The ten-year-old had more books than any kid he knew, which made sense since Anne Marie owned a bookstore.
“Mom’s buying me my own bookcase and I want to keep it over there.” She pointed at the wall across from the window.
Ellen was a bright child who loved to read; he was pleased she enjoyed books as much as he did. Tim had been a voracious reader from the time he was old enough to hold one in his hands. That wasn’t the only interest he shared with his daughter and Anne Marie. They all seemed to love playing board games and being around the water, to name two.
He and Ellen spoke for a few more minutes and Tim knew he should leave. As it was, he’d trespassed on Mel’s time with her and Anne Marie.
“So when’s the big moving day?” he asked once he’d joined the others.
“Tomorrow,” Anne Marie said.
“Need help?”
“Not really.”
He doubted she’d be interested in any assistance from him but had wanted to ask, just in case.
“A big truck is coming for the furniture,” Ellen said, “but all our friends from Blossom Street are helping us move the boxes.”
“I’ve got muscles.” Tim bent his elbow and flexed his biceps. “See? I can lift boxes, too. Many hands make for a lighter load,” he said, misquoting a saying he didn’t quite remember. “Or something like that.”
“Can Dad help us move?” Ellen asked excitedly.
“I don’t think so, Pumpkin,” Mel answered.
Tim recognized the other man’s mistake even before Mel did. Mel apparently hadn’t realized that Anne Marie didn’t like anyone else speaking for her.
Which was no doubt why she’d changed her mind about allowing him to be involved.
“The more helpers we have, the less work,” she said.
“I’ll be here,” Mel said, as if that would make all the difference.
Anne Marie ignored his remark. “If you’re available, Tim, Ellen and I gladly accept your offer,” she said. “Thank you.”
“Just tell me what time and I’ll be there.” He resisted the urge to gloat. It would be poor sportsmanship, so he didn’t, but he certainly felt like it.
Mel narrowed his eyes. “What might be more helpful is if you took Ellen for the day,” he suggested. “She’ll get in the way—”
“I want to be with my friends,” Ellen protested, interrupting him.
“I want Ellen with me,” Anne Marie said emphatically.
“What about Baxter?” Mel asked, a bit irritated now. “Surely you don’t want the dog underfoot? Maybe Tim could take him.”
“I’ve already arranged for someone to look after Baxter.” Anne Marie obviously wasn’t pleased with the way Mel had taken control. Tim hadn’t known her long but he was well aware of her capable nature—and her independence.
“I should’ve known you’d be on top of things,” Mel said, apparently trying to make amends, although his compliment sounded grudging.
An awkward silence stretched between them. Ready to leave, Tim reached inside his pants pocket for his car keys. “I’d better get back to the office before my dad wonders where I am.” Tim worked as a broker at his father’s insurance agency.
“Yes, good idea,” Mel said.
“Mel,” Anne Marie whispered.
Taking the hint, Mel stepped forward. “It’s time I left, as well.”
Anne Marie and Ellen walked them both to the door. “Thank you for lunch, Mel. That was a special treat.”
“Thank you,” Ellen echoed.
“Would you like to take the leftovers home?” Anne Marie asked.
“No, you and Ellen keep them.” Then, with a sideways look at Tim, Mel announced, “Ellen’s favorite is chicken chow mein with crispy noodles.”
So that was how it was going to be. Mel was telling Tim he knew more about his daughter than Tim did. Tim felt his anger rise, but before he could respond, he inhaled a deep, calming breath and let the comment pass.
“Thank you, Tim, for the rhododendron,” Anne Marie said next. “I’ll plant it right away.”
“I’ll plant it for you,” Mel said.
Apparently, Mel was a slow learner, Tim thought. By now he should know better than to leap in and answer for Anne Marie.
He could predict her response.
“No, thank you, Mel. I’ll do it.” Anne Marie cast them both a warning look.
“Bye, Daddy. Bye, Punky,” Ellen said.
Mel’s face lit up triumphantly. He turned and started toward his car. Tim had parked behind him.
“She calls me Punky,” he said as they headed down the driveway together.
“Punky,” Tim repeated, suppressing a laugh. “Where did she come up with that?”
Mel shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t ask.”
Not to be outdone, Tim said, “Ellen has a special name for me, too.”
“Oh?” Mel didn’t look as though he believed him.
“She calls me Daddy.”
With that, Tim opened his car door, slipped inside and drove off.
Three
April 23
Moving day. I’m so thankful for all the friends who offered to help. I’ve been talking to Ellen about this move for weeks, describing it in positive terms. Yesterday evening, when I tucked her into bed at the apartment for the last time, I compared the move to starting a new knitting project. Even though it can be exciting and fun, it’s a little scary, too. There’s a lot of work involved and sometimes you make mistakes, but when you’re finished you have something that didn’t exist before. Something beautiful. This was an analogy Ellen could understand. We’ve both completed our current knitting projects, so we’ll begin new ones. The timing’s perfect. A new house. A new neighborhood for Ellen to explore. And a new knitting project.
“Ellen,” Anne Marie called, walking from room to room in their small apartment. “Where are you?”
“Here, Mom.” Ellen emerged from her bedroom, dragging her backpack.
Anne Marie knew Ellen had placed her most precious items inside the backpack instead of entrusting them to a box for someone else to transport. She had her knitting and her list of twenty wishes, along with a framed photograph of her grandmother and a book of poems Tim had given her. From the obvious weight of the knapsack, she’d stuffed other things in it, as well. Anne Marie hadn’t checked; she was busy enough doing her own last-minute packing.
“Tim’s here,” Anne Marie told her. Of all the friends who’d offered to help, he was the first to arrive.
After knocking once, he’d let himself into the apartment. “How are my girls this morning?” he asked cheerfully. He held a take-out coffee in one hand and wore blue jeans and a sweatshirt with the Mariners logo on the front. Both Tim and Ellen enjoyed baseball and declared themselves to be diehard Mariners fans.
“Girls?” Anne Marie repeated, one eyebrow cocked.
“How’s my girl?” he corrected, and seemed rather amused with himself.
“Daddy!” Ellen raced to her father as if she hadn’t
seen him in at least a month rather than the day before.
After setting his coffee on the kitchen counter, Tim caught Ellen and lifted her up for a hug.
Anne Marie looked away. She was happy Ellen had found her father and grateful for the affectionate relationship between them. Still, moments like this were hard to watch for reasons she couldn’t—or didn’t want to—identify. Finding him had been one of the girl’s wishes, which had prompted Anne Marie to allow the former addict into their lives. She could tell he genuinely loved the child.
“I brought my truck,” Tim said when he’d put Ellen back on the floor. “I can start taking down boxes if you like.”
“Can I ride over to the new house with you?” Ellen asked.
“That’s up to your mom.”
Anne Marie appreciated the fact that he’d acquiesced to her authority. “Fine by me. The others will be here any minute.”
She had plenty of volunteers—so many she’d had to turn some down. Her stepchildren, Melissa and Brandon, and Melissa’s husband, Michael, had offered, too. But they lived quite far away these days and she didn’t want to inconvenience them.
In her usual organized fashion, Anne Marie had carefully planned the move. She’d decided her friends would transport the boxes before the hired movers showed up. Whatever didn’t fit in Tim’s truck would go in their individual cars. With Lydia’s husband and family helping, Winter and Pierre from the French Café, plus Tim and his truck, Anne Marie thought it would only take one trip. They’d have lunch while the movers hauled the furniture from the apartment to the house, and after the truck had left, her small crew of friends would place the boxes in the appropriate rooms.
Tim sipped his coffee. “Where’s…?” He didn’t finish his question.
“Mel is stopping by after lunch. He had an appointment with a couple of out-of-town clients this morning.” Mel owned a thriving architectural firm and often met with clients on weekends.
She held her breath, waiting for some derogatory retort from Tim, which never came. She was relieved he’d kept his opinion to himself. Honestly, those two men could be as bad as junkyard dogs, so intent on challenging each other. Anne Marie sometimes felt like a scrap of food they were competing for. Her one hope was that Ellen didn’t sense the undercurrents between Mel and Tim. If she did, she hadn’t said anything.
“Alix has Baxter for the day,” Ellen explained to her father, obviously missing her adored dog.
“That’s good, don’t you think?” Tim asked.
Ellen shrugged. “I guess.”
“He might get lost or stepped on by someone if he was here. And you know Alix will take great care of him.”
“Alix and Jordan promised to bring him to the house this afternoon,” Anne Marie said. “Then Baxter can help you unpack your bedroom.”
Ellen nodded, but it was plain to see that she wasn’t happy to have Baxter with someone else, even someone she knew and trusted.
Within ten minutes, the Goetz family arrived. Brad, Cody and Casey ran energetically up the stairs; Lydia hadn’t been able to leave the store, as Saturday was one of her busiest times. Soon, with Anne Marie doling out instructions, they hauled boxes down to Tim’s truck. Pierre and Winter followed five minutes later.
“Winter won’t be lifting anything,” Pierre said.
“Pierre,” she muttered under her breath, looking slightly embarrassed.
Her husband replied in French. Anne Marie had been to France and had taken a few lessons, but he spoke far too quickly for her to understand. The one word that leaped out, though, was bébé.
“You’re pregnant?” Anne Marie clapped her hands in delight. “That’s fantastic!”
Winter smiled. “We just found out last week.”
His expression proud, Pierre slipped his arm around his wife’s waist. “We’re due in early December,” he said. “Just in time for Christmas,” he added with a grin.
“Congratulations!”
Winter elbowed her husband. “We weren’t going to say anything until after the first trimester, but apparently Pierre forgot about our agreement.”
Again he replied in French, and whatever he said made Winter laugh and hug him. “I should’ve known it would be too hard for him to keep quiet. He said he can’t resist telling everyone because he’s so excited.”
“As he should be.”
“Since Pierre doesn’t want me to lift anything, I’ll volunteer to prepare lunch.”
Anne Marie had planned to purchase pizza or chicken wings, but she certainly wasn’t turning down Winter’s offer. “That would be wonderful.”
“Okay, let me go back to the café and get started. Sandwiches okay?”
“Your sandwiches? Better than okay!”
Soon after Winter had left, Lillie and Hector came up the stairs. Anne Marie had met Lillie and her daughter, Barbie, through the reading group she’d held at the bookstore. They were both widows and had compiled their own lists of twenty wishes. Shortly afterward, Lillie had met Hector. They were dissimilar in superficial ways but alike in the ways that mattered and had fallen in love. Anne Marie assumed they’d eventually get married.
“We’re here to help,” Lillie said, “even though we’re not on the official duty roster.” She wore a man-size faded blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up past her elbows and jeans with white tennis shoes. Nevertheless, she looked as elegant as she always did. “Oh, Barbie and Mark send you their best,” she added. Barbie, who owned an upscale dress shop, had recently married Mark Bassett, the man she’d met around the same time Lillie and Hector had begun their relationship.
“Shall we begin?” Pierre said. “Allons-y. Or in English, let’s go.”
Anne Marie wanted to do her share of the physical work, but she was needed to supervise and direct traffic. With so many people helping it didn’t take long for everything to be loaded. Winter had coffee and pastries delivered from the café and during their break, Ellen sat next to Tim, keeping her backpack close to her side.
Since they had a quiet moment, Anne Marie asked Tim, “Would you mind looking after Ellen next weekend?”
“Sure. I don’t have anything planned.”
“Mel is taking Mom to see Jersey Boys at the 5th Avenue Theater,” Ellen informed him.
“Oh.” His gaze held Anne Marie’s. “I’ll be happy to stay with Ellen.”
“Thank you. I—”
Her cell phone chirped and she glanced quickly at call display. Seeing that it was Mel, she walked over to the kitchen sink, turning her back to Tim and the others.
“Hi,” she said in a low voice.
“Hi. How’s everything going?”
“Great. We’re on a break. The boxes are all loaded and ready to go, and once the van shows up I’m out of here.”
“Listen, it looks like this meeting might go longer than I realized. I can’t tell you how bad I feel about letting you down.”
“Mel, please, we’ve got lots of people. You aren’t letting me down. There’s no reason to apologize. I understand.”
“I’ll come as soon as I can.”
“Yes, but take all the time you need with your clients.”
“Okay.” His voice was regretful. “I’ll see you later, then.” When she shut off her phone she could feel Tim’s eyes on her. She didn’t explain the call; it simply wasn’t his business.
Once they’d all headed over to the house and the moving van arrived, the rest of the morning passed in a blur of activity. While the two professional movers carried the furniture inside and set it in the various rooms according to Anne Marie’s instructions, Winter came over with lunch. The small work party sat on blankets spread out on the lawn and enjoyed their soup and sandwiches—croissants with tuna, smoked salmon and turkey fillings.
Tim brought Anne Marie a small container of cream of mushroom soup, which she refused. “No, thanks. Don’t have time.” She continued to direct the movers.
“Save it for later.”
“Okay.” She
was hungry but she had more important things to deal with.
When the movers were finished, her friends unloaded the boxes, piling them in their designated rooms.
“Can Baxter come home now?” Ellen asked when they were done for the day.
Anne Marie phoned Alix and Jordan, who drove to the house with their infant son—and the dog—half an hour later.
“Baxter!” Ellen crouched down and held out her arms. The Yorkie didn’t need any encouragement; he ran toward Ellen at top speed, leaped into her waiting arms and licked her face frantically.
Soon the only volunteer left was Tim. Alix and Jordan went home. Brad had to take Cody to baseball practice and Casey wanted to be dropped off to spend time with Lydia’s mother at the assisted-living complex. The girl had grown close to her adoptive grandmother, which Anne Marie knew would benefit them both. Hector and Lillie had plans with his family that afternoon and Pierre had to go to work. Anne Marie thanked them all. She’d been blessed with generous friends. Exceptional friends.
Ellen had gone to her room; Tim lingered. “Anything you need me to do?” he asked.
She shook her head. She’d prefer it if Tim wasn’t around when Mel arrived.
“Baxter!” Ellen suddenly yelled. Looking upset, she dashed out of her bedroom. “Where’s Baxter?”
“I thought you put him outside,” Tim said.
“I did, but he isn’t in the backyard!”
“You didn’t let him inside, did you?” Tim asked Anne Marie.
“No. He must be in the yard,” she said. “There isn’t anywhere else.” He was probably asleep under the apple tree and Ellen hadn’t noticed.
The three of them hurried into the yard.
Baxter was nowhere to be seen.
Tim walked along the fence and squatted down to examine it, concentrating on the side that led to the alley. He raised his head and waved at Anne Marie.
She ran over. “What?” she asked fearfully, her heart pounding as she crossed her arms over her chest. She knew what he was about to tell her.