The Knitting Diaries

by Debbie Macomber

  Tim snickered softly. “You can say that again.” He was silent for the next few minutes. “Now what?” he finally asked.

  Anne Marie blinked. “What do you mean?”

  “The way I see it, we have two choices.”

  “Only two?”

  He didn’t respond to the question. “We can overlook what just happened…” he began.

  “Or?”

  “Or we can explore it further.”

  “Ellen’s in the backseat.”

  “I didn’t mean this minute.” His gaze bore into hers. “You’re the one who has to decide what you want, Anne Marie. The decision is yours.”

  It suddenly occurred to her what that kiss was all about. And it wasn’t because he was attracted to her. He’d said as much. Anne Marie closed her eyes once more and pushed aside the exciting sensations that cascaded through her. His touch was thrilling—wonderful—but she couldn’t trust him. He’d taught her painful lessons in the past and she’d be a fool to ignore them.

  “You didn’t need to do that, you know,” she said stiffly.

  He frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  “You kissed me just now because you’re afraid of what I might do.”

  “Might do?”

  “Don’t worry, Tim. I’ll never block your access to Ellen. She’s your daughter and she loves you. But I also know that if it wasn’t for Ellen you wouldn’t have anything to do with me. And I’m fine with that.”

  “Anne Marie, listen—”

  “No, please, I don’t want to hear your excuses. Mel suggested the two of us set up a parenting plan and I think that’s a good idea. You don’t need to flatter me with attention and kisses, Tim. We understand each other without playing games.”

  His frown darkened. “You honestly believe that’s what the kiss was about?”

  She didn’t say anything.

  He waited for a moment, then started the engine. “Your silence is answer enough.”

  He was angry and upset with her. Perhaps it was best this way.

  In fact, she knew it was.

  Eight

  April 27

  I saw Mom and Tim kissing this afternoon! They didn’t know I wasn’t really asleep. They kissed real hard and I was hoping maybe they might want to get married for real. April and I could be their wedding planners! But then something happened, only I don’t know what because Mom and Tim both got quiet. I tried to listen, but I couldn’t understand what they were talking about.

  When we got home, Mom said she’s going to knit something for a bride named Courtney, who’s marrying the son of her friend Bethanne. Mom’s going to talk to Lydia, and I want to come along. I want to knit something for a bride, too, except I want Mom to be the bride, just like April and I planned.

  When Anne Marie and Ellen returned from Lake Wisdom, there was a message on her home phone, which had been installed Tuesday, and on her cell.

  A message from Mel.

  Anne Marie listened to both with more than a twinge of guilt. While she’d been necking like a teenager with Tim in his car, Mel, the man she was dating, had tried to reach her.

  She waited until Ellen was down for the night before she called him back. “Hi,” she said. She knew it sounded tentative—and guilty. She had to resist the urge to apologize for kissing Tim.

  Mel instantly picked up on her agitation. “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “Yes… So what’s up?”

  “Actually, I phoned for two reasons,” he said.

  “Oh?” She paced the kitchen as she held the phone against her ear.

  “First, to apologize for the other night. I overreacted with Tim.”

  “It’s all right, really,” she rushed to tell him. Even discussing Tim casually was dangerous. “I understand. It was unfortunate, but it’s over and best forgotten.”

  “I guess I’m jealous,” Mel continued, oblivious to everything she’d said. “There were a dozen better ways to handle the situation. I behaved badly. I hope you’ll excuse my little temper tantrum.”

  “Mel, it’s over,” she said again. “Forgotten.” Now, if she could forget Tim’s kisses just as easily.

  “You’re far more forgiving and generous than I deserve.”

  If he didn’t stop soon, she was going to burst into tears and confess that she’d spent the afternoon with Tim and had succumbed to his charms, of which there were many.

  “Secondly, I called to remind you about Friday night.”

  “Friday?” Her memory had gone completely blank—no doubt understandable in the current situation. She stopped pacing, frowning as she tried to remember.

  “We have tickets to see Jersey Boys.”

  “Oh, right!” Anne Marie had been ecstatic at the opportunity. Her husband, Robert, had loved the Four Seasons, and she knew many of their songs by heart.

  “You mean you had forgotten?”

  “Oh…momentarily.” Tim had agreed to watch Ellen, which meant she’d be seeing him again soon…in front of Mel. This was guaranteed to be uncomfortable. “But I’m looking forward to it.”

  His voice lowered seductively, tenderly. “And I’m looking forward to spending time with you.”

  Another bolt of guilt struck her. Mel was a gentleman and a romantic, and she was an idiot to let Tim anywhere close to her heart.

  “Everything’s okay between us, then,” Mel went on to say.

  “Oh, yes, everything’s just fine.” She resumed her pacing.

  “Good.” How relieved he sounded.

  “I’m glad you called me back,” he said next. “I was beginning to worry.”

  “Why would you worry?”

  “It’s after ten.”

  Anne Marie couldn’t very well admit why she hadn’t been home earlier.

  “Teresa at the bookstore told me you’d gone out for the afternoon,” Mel said.

  “Yes, Ellen and I…spent time together.” Thank goodness Teresa hadn’t told him everything.

  “That’s great. Ellen’s a terrific kid.”

  “She is,” Anne Marie said, and felt the pressing urge to get off the phone before she slipped up.

  It took another five minutes to extricate herself from the conversation. She tried not to be obvious about wanting to end the call and hoped she’d succeeded. Her pacing continued even after she’d hung up.

  Stupid, stupid, stupid! What was she thinking, letting Tim and Ellen talk her into going to the lake—and so soon after her resolve to remove him from her thoughts! She was courting temptation and she knew it. Oh, she hadn’t realized they’d end up kissing again or that…that she’d feel his allure—again. She shook her head. She was smarter than this.

  Her relationship with Tim had, from the very beginning, been problematic. She’d had to frequently remind herself that he was a recovering alcoholic and drug addict. He’d been sober and clean for a long time, but that didn’t change the basic fact: he had all the personality traits of an alcoholic, even if he didn’t drink.

  Before she’d allowed Tim into their lives, Anne Marie had done extensive research on alcohol and drug addiction. She felt it was necessary to know what they were facing before she agreed to let Tim see his daughter.

  Legally, he had no right to Ellen and Anne Marie believed it was her duty, her moral obligation, to protect Ellen from any psychological harm he might inadvertently inflict.

  She went to bed that night feeling confused, angry with herself…and intent on counteracting any damage she’d done to her relationship with Mel.

  The next day, as she’d feared, Tim contacted her. He showed up at the bookstore, but the minute he walked in she pretended to be busy.

  He approached the service counter and greeted her with a smile that could have melted a glacier. “How’s it going?” he asked.

  She looked up, and returned his greeting with a tight smile, despite her determination not to display the slightest hint of emotion. “Very well, thanks.”

  “Do you have time for a lunch break?”
he asked. “We don’t need to go far. I checked, and the soup at the French Café is spicy black bean, which Ellen told me is one of your favorites.”

  It didn’t matter what Winter was serving, Anne Marie wasn’t going to have lunch with him. “Sorry, I can’t leave the shop, but thanks, anyway.”

  Out of the corner of her eye she saw that Teresa was about to say it was perfectly fine; she’d watch the store. Anne Marie sent her a warning glare, and Teresa instantly shut her mouth.

  To distract Tim, Anne Marie came out from behind the counter and placed a book on its shelf. “Oh, and did you remember you offered to look after Ellen on Friday night?”

  “Tomorrow?”

  “Yes. Mel’s taking me to Jersey Boys.”

  He was silent for a moment. “It must’ve slipped my mind, but it shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “If it is, I can ask April’s mother…. That might work even better now that I think of it. I’d like to set up a babysitting exchange with her.”

  “I said I’d do it,” Tim said. His mouth thinned. “We’ll get dinner and go to a movie.”

  “Okay, then.” She walked over to another shelf, dismayed when Tim followed her.

  “I thought we should discuss this parenting plan you mentioned.”

  “Yes, but now isn’t the best time to do that.”

  “Well, whenever it’s convenient. Just let me know.” Still, he lingered. “So, everything’s fine between you and Mel?”

  “Oh, yes,” she said, glancing over her shoulder as she spoke. Then, since she’d practically melted in his arms less than twenty-four hours earlier, she felt the need to add, “I hope you’ll look past what happened at the lake because I’d like to forget the entire incident.”

  “If that’s what you want.”

  “I do.” She turned to face him, and he boldly met her eyes.

  “Unfortunately, I’m not finding it that easy.” He paused, his silence heavy with meaning. “Those kisses were pretty…revealing, Anne Marie.”

  She laughed off his comment and lowered her voice. “Okay, so I’m human. You’re hot and so are your kisses— I’ll admit it. But when I realized what it was all about, I came to my senses.”

  “You really believe I’d manipulate you like that?” He stiffened and his shoulders arched back, as though he was flinching from a physical attack.

  “I…believe you love Ellen and will do whatever it takes to ensure that she stays in your life,” she said evenly, moving about the store, straightening a book here, adjusting a poster there.

  Tim trailed behind her.

  “It happened before, Tim. What else am I to think?” Then, hoping to lighten the conversation, she murmured, “Don’t get me wrong, our kiss was…nice.” She shrugged carelessly. “I find your company enjoyable. Who wouldn’t?”

  “But you’d rather spend time with Mel?”

  She wasn’t sure she could pull this off much longer. “Let’s put it this way. Mel and I have been dating for months. We get along beautifully and he’s good to Ellen.”

  Tim shoved his hands in his pockets. “You get along with me, too, and I’m crazy about Ellen.”

  “This is obviously some kind of competition between you and Mel.”

  He glared at her, eyes narrowed and lips tensed. Anne Marie could see that it was taking all the self-control he possessed not to explode in anger. “This all goes back to not telling you about Vanessa, doesn’t it?”

  Anne Marie felt the heat of embarrassment invade her face. Even her ears started to burn. “Yes, I suppose it does.”

  “Shakespeare sure got it right,” he muttered.

  “Shakespeare got a lot of things right. Which particular one are you referring to?”

  “Hell has no fury like a woman scorned.”

  Anne Marie blinked. “First,” she snapped, unable to resist correcting him, “that wasn’t Shakespeare. It was William Congreve, a Restoration playwright. And second…if this is what you want to think, then you’re free to do so.”

  “I’m not going to argue with you, Anne Marie. So you remember your literary references better than I do. Congratulations. Kudos to you. But say what you like—we both know what happened at the lake was real. Real for me and real for you. If you want to tell yourself I have some twisted ulterior motive, then go ahead.”

  Clenching her fists, she blurted out, “I made a fool of myself over you.” She glanced anxiously at Teresa, who was at the other side of the store, although still within hearing distance.

  “And you love turning the tables on me now.”

  “No.” She wanted that to be perfectly clear.

  He shook his head. “I’ve never lied to you. Never,” he said emphatically.

  “Fine, if that’s what you want to tell yourself. However, I feel that a lie of omission is still a lie.” She couldn’t help it; her arms began to flail about and her voice rose. “You let me build up this romantic fantasy and then after months—yes, months—you conveniently remember to mention that you’re engaged.” This whole scene was mortifying, but her anger and sense of betrayal overcame her embarrassment.

  “What was I supposed to do?”

  “What were you supposed to do?” she mimicked in singsong fashion. “Well, telling the truth comes to mind. Couldn’t you see that I was…attracted to you?”

  “Yes. Anne Marie, I saw it and I agonized over it. Listen…” Tim walked away from her, then returned. “I realized how you felt—but I was afraid that if I said anything, you wouldn’t let me see Ellen.”

  “You don’t have a very high opinion of me, do you?”

  “I didn’t know you. My daughter, a daughter I’d only just found out about, had been taken away from me. I was left without any legal recourse. I had one opportunity to win you over and I—”

  “Are you telling me you deliberately led me on?” This was too much!

  “No! Now you’re purposely distorting everything I say.”

  The frustration they were both feeling was almost more than either of them could take. Tim had raised his voice to match hers.

  “It might be best if we had this conversation some other time,” she said quietly, afraid their argument was keeping customers at bay. Several people had entered the store, but hadn’t yet ventured beyond the displays near the front.

  “Good idea.” He whirled around and stormed out.

  When Tim had left, Anne Marie began to shake. She placed her hands on the nearest bookshelf and slowly exhaled. She took several deep breaths, trying to control her emotions.

  Teresa approached her. “Are you okay?” she asked tentatively.

  “No.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Anne Marie nodded. She simply couldn’t respond to Teresa’s sympathy, afraid she might burst into tears.

  “Do you know who you remind me of?” Teresa asked.

  “No.” Furthermore, Anne Marie didn’t care.

  “My husband and me. That’s the way we fight, too, but then we always make up afterward. You and Tim will reconcile and it’ll be really good when you do. Mark my words.”

  Anne Marie was too upset to even think in terms of reconciliation. Not knowing what to expect, she made contingency plans for Ellen for Friday night. April’s mother was available to fill in, if necessary.

  As it turned out, Anne Marie didn’t need her. Tim arrived soon after she and Ellen got home.

  Ellen let him in, with Baxter dancing excitedly around them both.

  “How’re you doing, sweetheart?” he asked his daughter. “Hi, Baxter.”

  He hugged Ellen, then straightened when he saw Anne Marie. Holding her gaze, he intentionally resumed speaking to his daughter. “I understand we have a date tonight.”

  “A date?” Ellen said, sounding pleased.

  “I’m taking you out for dinner and a movie.”

  “Do I get popcorn, too?”

  “As much as you want.”

  Ellen grinned at Anne Marie. “Don’t worry, Mom. I’ll eat my vegetables
at dinner.”

  “Good girl.” Anne Marie felt bad about her argument with Tim earlier and took a hesitant step into the room. Mel would be here any minute, however, and with Ellen still standing in the hallway, she couldn’t talk to Tim about what had happened. And really, what was there to say? All she knew was that the lump in her throat had stayed with her all afternoon.

  “When will you have Ellen back?” she asked.

  His eyes refused to meet hers. “Nine, nine-thirty. Depends on how late the movie ends and traffic afterward.”

  “Okay… I don’t expect to be home before ten-thirty or eleven.”

  He nodded. “Ready to go, Ellen?”

  “Yes!” She ran to grab her sweater—one Lydia had knit for her with a Yorkie on the back.

  Tim opened the screen door.

  “Have fun, you two,” Anne Marie said. She scooped the dog into her arms and raised one hand in farewell.

  “You, too.” Tim paused, looking at her. “I mean that,” he said, his voice low enough so only she could hear.

  He seemed to be saying he regretted their argument as much as she did. Anne Marie wanted to believe that. Her lip quivered and she bit it hard, unwilling to give way to tears. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  He nodded and then, head down, walked out the door.

  Mel appeared soon after Ellen and Tim had left. He kissed Anne Marie’s cheek, then slid his arms around her, saying, “I adore Ellen, but it’s been too long since it was just the two of us.” His peck on the cheek had surprised her. She’d anticipated a real kiss, had actually hoped for one. She wanted to have strong feelings for Mel.

  “Yes,” she agreed. “It’s been ages.” She rested her head on his shoulder. She felt content in his embrace. Comforted. Unfortunately, there were none of the sparks she’d experienced with Tim, none of the heady rush of emotion. Mel was gentle, kind, honest. He would never mislead anyone.

  In a word, Mel was safe. Anne Marie needed safe and so did Ellen.

  The production of Jersey Boys proved to be everything Anne Marie had read and more. The music brought back memories of Robert, of dancing and laughing with the husband she’d loved, but unlike a few years ago, those memories offered more happiness than sorrow and deepened her enjoyment of the play. The story itself was the classic American tale of opportunity and success and the cost of fame.