The Knitting Diaries

by Debbie Macomber

  “I doubt it.”

  Their server brought the bottle of wine he’d ordered just then, which was typical, she thought, starting on her second slice of bread. Life was all about timing.

  They went through the ritual of opening, pouring, tasting and nodding. Robyn finished her bread, then reached for her glass and sniffed. It smelled like wine to her.

  “Ever send a bottle back?” she asked before taking a sip.

  “If it’s bad.”

  “Are you a wine snob?”

  He chuckled. “Do I look like a wine snob?”

  “You could pass for one right now.”

  He studied her for a second. “I might have been wrong about you.”

  “Might?”

  “I’m being cautious.”

  “You’re trying not to admit you were wrong. If the steak is as good as I think it’s going to be, don’t worry. I’ll forgive you.”

  “I can’t wait.” He picked up his glass. “Tell me about life in New York.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “I was a struggling actress. You’ve seen enough TV to be able to make some assumptions. Most of them are true. It’s hard, there’s a lot of competition and while I was talented and brilliant here, when I got to New York I was one of a thousand talented, brilliant young women.”

  She set down her glass and dug through the bread basket again. “The casting couch is alive and well, I’m sorry to say. Not always, but enough. There was no way I was willing to have sex with some jerk just to get a part. I would rather work for a living. Well…” She bit into the bread. “I guess that’s work, too, but not any kind I was interested in.”

  She spoke honestly and with an edge that told him more than her words that it had been tough.

  She wasn’t what he’d expected. There was no brittleness, no put-on sophistication. Her level of frankness was also surprising. And intriguing.

  He’d done his best not to like her, to assume the worst. He’d been wrong—something that rarely happened.

  “Eleanor says you get your talent from your mother,” he said.

  “I do. She was wonderful. And so beautiful.” Robyn smiled sadly. “I’m the blurry version of her. She was the kind of woman who could take your breath away just walking across the room.”

  “You miss her.”

  “Always. But I had my grandmother. I’ve been lucky. I’ve been loved my whole life. When my mom died, I didn’t worry about where I was going to go. I knew I’d be taken care of. And it wasn’t just her. Adeline and Marion were a part of every memory.” She grinned. “All three of them got me ready for my prom date. They nearly blinded us with all the pictures they took.”

  “Sounds like a special childhood.”

  “It was.”

  “Any regrets about New York?”

  She considered the question. “No. I needed to go. I needed to try. Otherwise, I would have always wondered. Like every other unemployed actor, I kept thinking ‘what if.’ What if my big break comes? What will I do? What will it be like? When I stopped caring about that, I knew it was time to come home. Eleanor’s surgery gave me the perfect excuse.”

  She stared at him. “Don’t say anything mean.”

  “I won’t again.”

  “An unkeepable promise,” she told him. “Be careful with those.”

  Interesting advice, he thought. “What happens now? Any plans?”

  “Sure. Get on with my life.” She sipped the wine. “My grandmother’s surgery is in a couple of days. Once she’s recovered, I’m going to get a job, start saving my money and consider going back to college. My degree in singing and dancing isn’t exactly practical.” She shrugged. “But it’s been my world for so long, it’s going to take a while to figure out what comes next.”

  “You’ve thought this through.”

  She smiled. “I appreciate the lack of surprise in your voice.”

  He laughed, then mentioned a customer who had been in that day.

  They talked about the store, weather, even politics. Robyn admitted how every fall she’d watched the reality show on the girls trying out for the Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders and how it had made her homesick. He caught her staring at the scars on his hands and told her a little about the car accident that had caused them, although he didn’t mention his wife and son.

  He discovered they both liked old movies and being outside.

  “Central Park is huge and wonderful,” she said. “But you’re still in the middle of a city. I missed the wide-open spaces.” She smiled. “I guess I’ll always be a Texas girl at heart.”

  They talked about hiking and camping, she liked museums while he would rather go to a car show. They discovered they both wanted to spend time on the water. She made him laugh, something he knew he didn’t do often enough.

  When the food arrived, she polished off every bite of the twenty-two-ounce steak, along with potatoes and most of her salad. Watching her enjoy her dinner made his meal taste better. It had been a long time since food was anything but a way to keep his body going.

  “Impressive,” he said as the waiter cleared the table.

  “Everyone has a talent,” she told him, leaning back in her chair with a sigh. “That was good. I’m really full.”

  “You should be ready to explode.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Don’t be critical. I was thinking of getting dessert.”

  “Go for it.”

  She laughed. “Doesn’t a fudge brownie sound delicious?”

  Watching her eat it sounded pretty good. Robyn was intense about food. It made him wonder what else she liked to focus on in the course of her day…or her night.

  Don’t go there, he told himself. She was Eleanor’s granddaughter and he had no business messing with that.

  “You haven’t told me what you do,” Robyn said suddenly. “Do you work?”

  “Sometimes,” he said easily, thinking about the company he mostly ignored these days. There were executives in place to run things. While he liked to be a part of nurturing artists, he’d lost his interest in the business aspect around the same time he’d lost everything else important to him.

  Robyn stared expectantly.

  “I write songs,” he said at last, which was true. “Mostly country music.”

  “Any I’d know?”

  “Probably not. I haven’t written in a while.”

  He hadn’t done anything in a while, except go through the motions. The only place he felt vaguely normal was at Only Ewe, and that was because it was safe. It wasn’t exactly living, but it was better than the half world he usually inhabited.

  Six

  After his date polished off an entire fudge brownie, along with a side of ice cream and extra whipped cream, T.J. drove her home.

  “That was the best meal I’ve had in years,” Robyn told him. “Seriously, I owe you. If there’s anything I can do, let me know.”

  His mind went to a place it hadn’t been since the death of his wife and the intensity of his longing surprised him. He had a vision of tangled sheets, a naked, slightly curvier Robyn moaning beneath him as he took them both on the slow road home.

  He swore silently. What was he thinking? Sex? With her? Impossible. He wasn’t ready to go there.

  He pulled up in front of Eleanor’s house, intending to let Robyn walk herself to the door. But he’d been raised by a mama who believed in good manners and he couldn’t help getting out of the truck and walking around to her side.

  She slid out gracefully, then strolled with him to the door. “This was great,” she said. “I didn’t think I’d like spending time with you, but it was fun.”

  “That was honest,” he responded, amused and a little insulted.

  “You don’t talk much at the store. I had this vision of two hours with only the sound of clinking flatware to entertain myself. I’d half planned to order a dozen water glasses and play a little tune with them.”

  They paused by the door. She was smiling as she spoke, her eyes bright with laught
er. She was beautiful, he realized and as the thought formed, he knew he was going to kiss her.

  Robyn felt a level of contentment she hadn’t experienced in years. She was full, happy and ready to crawl into her bed and sleep soundly for a full eight hours. She’d returned to where she belonged, she had people who loved her and dinner had been a whole lot more fun than she’d expected. In her world, that was a big, fat win.

  She turned to T.J., ready to thank him, only to find he’d moved close to her. Really close. Then he was leaning in and she only had a nanosecond to brace herself for a very unexpected kiss.

  Three hours ago she would have sworn the man would as soon spend time with a scorpion as her. Forty-five minutes ago, she would have said that maybe he didn’t completely hate her. But kissing?

  His mouth was warm and sure, firm yet gentle. He kissed like a man who knew what he was doing and liked it just fine. Without thinking, she wrapped her arms around his neck. It was both instinct and the need to hold on to something secure in a world that started to spin just a little.

  Heat began in her chest and spread out to every corner of her body. Heat and hunger. Not for food, this time, but for a man’s touch. Warmth changed to need and nearly took her breath away.

  When he stepped back, she dropped her hands to her sides. They stared at each other, his face in shadow, but still handsome.

  The man was broken, she reminded herself. He spent an inordinate amount of time with a bunch of older women because anything close to his old life was too much for him to deal with. She was home to get her act together, not take on a new project. They had no business kissing.

  Yet she wanted to again and again. She told herself that it was just like being hungry for a good steak. That any old steak would do. But she knew she was lying. The ache inside her seemed pretty specifically about T.J., which wasn’t good news at all.

  “Thank you for dinner,” she forced herself to say.

  “You’re welcome.”

  They stared at each other for a few more seconds. There was a moment when the air around them crackled with possibilities. But instead of acting on that chemistry, he turned away. She stood there a few minutes, listening to the sound of his truck driving away.

  “I’m the wrong man for the job,” T.J. told Marion as he stared around the fussy shop. “Don’t you want Eleanor here, or Adeline? What about Robyn? She has good taste.”

  At least he assumed she did, because she sure tasted good.

  He grinned at the private joke, remembering how she’d felt in his arms. All angles and bones, but still exciting. He’d liked kissing her, had wanted to kiss her more. He’d imagined her with more curves and had been aroused for the first time in years.

  “You’re walking me down the aisle,” Marion said firmly, adjusting the front of her pale pink gown. “I want you here. What do you think?”

  The dress was floor-length, beaded, with lace and long sleeves. It looked like a wedding gown to him. He didn’t know the difference between one and another. The full skirt emphasized her round shape and the age spots on her chest were prominent.

  Yet she was as much in love as any bride a third her age and just as beautiful.

  “It’s perfect,” he assured her honestly. “He’ll love it.”

  Marion stared at him hopefully, the wrinkles around her eyes and mouth softer in the flattering lighting. “It’s not too much? I know it’s formal, but I can’t help myself. I don’t want to wear a tasteful suit or dress.”

  “Then you shouldn’t. This is your wedding day.”

  She beamed at him, then patted his cheek. “Thank you. For everything.”

  He knew she meant more than the dress shopping. After all, he’d been the one to introduce her to her groom.

  Six months after he’d discovered emotional rescue at Only Ewe, he’d impulsively invited Marion to join him for lunch. Also at the meal was a retired rancher he knew. It had been love at first sight—both heartening and strange when the couple in question was in their seventies.

  “Let me change out of this and we can go back to the store,” Marion told him.

  “Take your time.”

  When she’d left, one of the sales clerks offered him coffee. He refused and would have turned to the selection of magazines, but she continued to stand in front of him.

  “Yes?” he asked.

  She was in her twenties and pretty enough.

  “You’re T. J. Passman,” she said, her voice laced with disbelief. “I’ve seen your pictures before. You own Long Day Records.”

  He glanced around quickly to make sure that Marion hadn’t overheard. No one at Only Ewe was aware of his business or his success. Success that no longer mattered.

  “My boyfriend auditioned for you last year,” the girl continued breathlessly. “You turned him down, but you gave him a lot of really great advice. He took it all and one of your music executives signed him last month.”

  He wanted to be anywhere but here. “I’m glad it worked out,” he muttered.

  “He is, too. It’s so exciting.” She glanced toward the dressing rooms. “Is that your grandmother?”

  “A friend of the family,” he said. “If you don’t mind, I’d prefer not to talk business around her.”

  The girl looked confused, but nodded. “Okay. Sure.”

  He gave her a smile and waited for her to leave.

  Years ago, he’d enjoyed the trappings of success that came with owning his company. But wearing thousand-dollar suits and driving a car that cost more than most people made in a year hadn’t saved his wife and son on that slick, wet road. Losing them had nearly destroyed him. He’d been prepared to die that night, too. The joke on him was that he’d lived.

  Robyn did her best to keep smiling. Her grandmother had preregistered for her knee surgery and was already checked in at the hospital. They sat together in her private room, waiting for them to come and take her to surgery.

  Robyn knew that knee replacement was routine and nothing to worry about, but she couldn’t help thinking that stuff happened. People died and Eleanor was the only family she had in the world.

  It was her own fault, she thought grimly. She’d been the one to stay away so long. Why hadn’t she come home years ago?

  “Stop it,” her grandmother said firmly. “Whatever you’re thinking, I want you to stop it. I’m going to be fine. When I’m recovered, I’m going on Dancing with the Stars.”

  Despite her worry, Robyn laughed. “Well, I should hope so. They’ve been calling and calling. It’s kind of annoying.”

  Her grandmother laughed and patted her hand. “I’m not afraid and don’t you be, either. I’m excited to get back to my regular activities without being in pain all the time. And it’s a huge relief knowing you’ll be there at the store.”

  “I’ll take care of everything,” Robyn promised.

  “I know you will, dear.”

  “I’ll even get Adeline to stop talking about her cruise.”

  Eleanor grinned. “Good luck with that.”

  Far too soon, the older woman was wheeled away. She waved until she disappeared around a corner. Then Robyn headed for the waiting area. The doctor had promised to come see her as soon as the surgery was over. Until then, her job was to wait and make phone calls. Marion and Adeline were at the store and needed updates every thirty minutes—even if there was nothing to say.

  She’d barely settled into one of the chairs by the window, when a tall, good-looking man walked in. T.J. glanced around the room, then headed directly for her.

  She hadn’t seen him since their date. Under other circumstances, she would have felt awkward. But the impending surgery made it hard to think about anything else.

  “They already take her in?” he asked.

  “A few minutes ago.”

  She expected him to express disappointment at missing Eleanor, then leave. Instead he settled next to her.

  “Worried?” he asked.

  “A little.”

  �
�Me, too.”

  Robyn blinked at him. “Are you staying?”

  “Yup.”

  “Why?”

  “To keep you company and because I want to.” He frowned. “Maybe not in that order.”

  Despite everything, she laughed. “That makes it clear.”

  He flashed her a smile. “She’s tough. She’ll pull through this. You’ll see.”

  “I hope so.”

  He put his arm around her. She leaned against him, feeling his strength, knowing the waiting would be easier because it was shared.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “Anytime.”

  Seven

  “Your grandmother now has the knee of a thirty-year-old,” the doctor said as he approached.

  Robyn sprang to her feet, barely able to breathe. “So it went well?”

  “I couldn’t have asked for a smoother surgery,” the doctor told her. “Your grandmother came through extremely well. She’s already in recovery and you can see her in about an hour. She’ll still be out of it, so you’ll have to keep the visit short.”

  Robyn nodded, concentrating on sending out prayers of gratitude. T.J. was talking to the doctor, probably asking sensible questions that he would tell her about later, she thought, relieved to know that Eleanor was fine.

  “You need pie,” T.J. decided when the doctor left. “It’s one of those things. Pie after surgery.”

  “I didn’t have surgery.”

  He shook his head. “Why are women difficult?” He grabbed her hand and tugged her out of the waiting room. “I’ll get them to put extra whipped cream on it. You’ll like that.”

  “Pie does sound good,” she admitted, following him. “Now that the four-hundred-pound weight of worry is off my chest.”

  They made their way to the cafeteria and collected their pie, along with coffee. T.J. led the way to a table by the window. They sat across from each other.

  Robyn took a couple of bites, letting the sugar rush restore her.

  “Thanks for staying,” she said. “It can’t be fun, being back in the hospital.”

  He shrugged. “It’s better to wait than be the one in the operating room.”