Patterns of Change

by Terri DuLong

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “This guy is a ten in my book,” was all she said as we walked out the door.

  Chapter 42

  The next few days continued to be quite busy at both the yarn and tea shop. Not crazy busy like the first day, but the hours flew by.

  On Friday morning we had a lull from the normal rush, which gave us a chance to catch up on things. Mavis Anne had a doctor’s appointment and wouldn’t be in till around noon. I was going through the receipts from the day before and Yarrow came to perch on the arm of the sofa.

  I glanced in her direction. “What’s up?”

  “So what’s he look like?”

  “What’s who look like?” My concentration had been on tallying numbers.

  “Henry Wagner.”

  “Oh.” I laughed. “I have no idea.”

  “Oh, come on, Chloe. You mean to tell me you haven’t Googled him?”

  “Googled him?”

  Now she was laughing. “Yeah, like in check him out. See if he’s who he says he is. And most important, see what he looks like. It’s the accepted dating ritual with so many couples first meeting online.”

  I laughed again and shook my head. “Hmm, I guess I really am from the old school. I never considered this for a second.”

  She nodded toward the PC. “Well . . . go ahead. Type in his name.”

  I looked at the computer and back to Yarrow. “It doesn’t feel right. To be sneaky and see him before he gets to see me. That’s kind of like those sonograms that tell parents months ahead of time the sex of their baby. I think I’d rather wait and be surprised.”

  “The sex of a baby is one thing, but really, Chloe? Aren’t you just a little bit curious what he looks like? Besides, how do you know he never checked you out? Your photo is on the Internet from the Yarning Together website.”

  “Well . . . maybe I’m a little curious . . . but not enough to find out beforehand.”

  “Then get up and let me do it. I’ll check him out.”

  I laughed and waved my hand. “Get outta here and go make some tea.”

  David really was spoiling the three of us. Mavis returned from her doctor’s appointment shortly after noon. She entered the shop followed by David carrying a large wicker basket.

  “I’m back,” she called. “And we have lunch.”

  I looked up from the cowl I was working on to display in the shop.

  “Oh, how nice. The knitting group will be here in just over an hour and I wasn’t sure I’d get lunch today.”

  David wagged a finger in my direction. “No, no. We’ll have none of that. Skipping meals. It’s not healthy. And so—” He whisked a tea towel off the top of the basket in a dramatic gesture and said, “We have crabmeat on croissant with some macaroni salad to go with it and fresh fruit for after.”

  I walked to the tea shop area and peeked into the basket he’d set on the counter.

  “Oh, that looks yummy,” Yarrow said.

  “It sure does. Thanks,” I told him. “But you’re spoiling us, David.”

  He laughed. “Precisely, and it gives me great joy to do so. Now enjoy. I have to run. Clive and I are driving up to Flagler Beach to speak to a potential client.”

  The three of us sat at a table in the tea shop to eat. Yarrow asked her aunt how her appointment had gone.

  “Just fine. I’m as healthy as a horse—well, except for my bum knee. But I’m not sure that will ever be the same again. All the more reason for me to stay with David and Clive.”

  I caught the wink Yarrow sent in my direction and smiled.

  The women began arriving shortly before two. Most of them had already come by on opening day at the beginning of the week, but for some it was their first time in the new yarn shop.

  “Oh, wow,” I heard somebody say and turned around to see Paige. “This place is gorgeous.”

  “Thanks,” I said, as I continued putting away a new shipment of Ultra Pima Cotton. “Look around and browse before we start the knit-along.”

  Fay entered the shop and had the same reaction as Paige. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get here before, but I joined the Red Hatters and I’ve been busy all week.”

  “Good for you,” I told her. “I take it they’re a little nicer than the mean girls knitters?”

  She laughed. “Much. They’re a great group and know how to have a fun time. Minus the dramatics.” Her eyes scanned the room and she smiled. “A woman could definitely get lost in here.”

  By the time we were assembled at the large rectangular table, ten women had joined us for the knit-along. Most of them had already purchased their yarn and had begun working on the shawl.

  “This is going to be so beautiful,” Louise said.

  “I know,” Maddie agreed. “I couldn’t wait to cast on my stitches the other night.”

  “I hope I’m not too late,” I heard somebody say and looked up to see a woman who appeared to be in her midfifties walk in.

  Yarrow jumped up to give her a hug. “Oh, June. I’m so glad you could join us and, no, you’re not late at all. Pull up a chair.”

  “Chloe, this is June. Remember we told you she’s been busy caring for her grandson?”

  “Right,” I said. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Same here. I’m so glad you’ve opened the yarn shop with Mavis Anne.”

  “Not any more happy than I am,” Mavis Anne said, and we all laughed.

  “How’s it going with Charlie?” Paige asked.

  “Very well. I have him all settled in preschool, which gives me a bit more time for myself. So Friday afternoon knitting is back on my schedule.”

  “I’m happy to hear that,” Maddie said. “You deserve some free time and I’m sure socializing is good for Charlie too.”

  “It is. Oh, Paige, I was going to ask you if you know of anybody with puppies. Since you work with grooming dogs, I thought you might have heard of some that are available.”

  “Oh, my goodness,” Louise exclaimed. “Are you thinking of getting a new dog?”

  “Well, with Russ being retired now, he’d like to have a dog again. We lost our Piper last year and after sixteen years, our house does feel empty without one. Besides, we think it might be good for Charlie.”

  “Oh, what a great idea,” Paige said. “I’ve always felt every child needs a dog. It teaches them responsibility and compassion. Gee, I don’t know of any right now but I’ll keep my ears open for you.”

  “Thanks,” June said. “We’re going to check out the Humane Society too. So many dogs need a home.”

  The three hours flew by with the women working away on Chloe’s Dream. I jumped up a number of times for customers coming in to purchase yarn and in between I assisted with instruction or questions on the shawl pattern.

  We were cleaning up and putting things back in order after the women left when I heard Basil whining outside.

  “Where are you, buddy?” I called.

  “He’s back here outside the French doors,” Yarrow said as she washed mugs in the sink.

  His whining got louder and I saw Yarrow grab a towel to wipe her hands and head outside. I was walking to the back of the shop when I heard her say, “What on earth is this?”

  Mavis Anne followed me outside to investigate. And there in the garden area beside the tea shop was Basil racing back and forth, whining and begging somebody to pay attention to what he had discovered.

  A small black-and-white kitten cowered beneath the azalea bush.

  “Oh, poor baby,” I heard Yarrow say, and then she surprised me by stretching out on the ground and inching her way toward the kitten with hand outstretched. “Come on, sweetie. I won’t hurt you.”

  Pitiful mews came from the cat while Basil seemed beside himself with concern, dancing in circles, looking up at me and then at Mavis Anne.

  After a few minutes Yarrow was able to get hold of the kitten and scoop it up into her arms. She stood up and nuzzled her face into its fur.

  “Oh, my God,” I said.
“Where did that kitten come from? He’s adorable.”

  “He certainly is,” Mavis Anne said, sitting on a patio chair.

  Yarrow also sat down, continuing to murmur endearments into the kitten’s ears. Basil immediately scampered over and began licking the kitten’s paws. I was concerned he might get scratched for his kindness but the kitten began purring and looked at him with adoring eyes.

  “These two already seem to be friends,” Yarrow said. She looked around the garden area. “I have no idea where this kitten came from.”

  “What are we going to do with it?” I asked.

  Yarrow and Mavis Anne remained silent and then Yarrow said, “I’m keeping it. He can be the mascot for the shop. I’ll take him home with me and bring him back every morning.”

  “Really?” He was a very sweet kitten but I was surprised at Yarrow’s interest. She’d never owned a pet before and she’d even told me that was how she liked it.

  “Yup. He’s mine. Look, he doesn’t even want to leave my arms. I’ll bring him to the vet next week and get him checked out.”

  “You’re going to need something to transport him in the car,” I said. “You can borrow Basil’s carrier.”

  “Thanks,” she said, standing up with the kitten against her chest. “I’ll run to Pet Supermarket after I drop him off at my house. I’ll get a carrier and food and anything else I might need.”

  “That’s great,” Mavis Anne said. “Do you have a name for the little guy yet?”

  Yarrow held the kitten up in front of her face and smiled. “He’s so soft and silky. Meet Merino. I’m naming him Merino after the yarn.”

  Chapter 43

  By the time Tuesday arrived, we had the yarn and tea shop open one week, Merino had been to the vet and was settling into his new routine well, and I was finally going to meet Henry Wagner that evening.

  A few of the regulars dropped by and were working on their shawls as I unpacked a new shipment of cotton bamboo.

  All of us looked toward the door when Louise burst in.

  “I’ve made a mistake,” she moaned. “I need help. I’m not sure what I did but . . . well, I’m not sure I’ll be able to finish this shawl.”

  “Calm down, Louise,” Mavis Anne said. “Let me see what you have.”

  I smiled as I saw Louise sit beside Mavis at the table and remove about eight inches of Chloe’s Dream from her bag. Non-knitters might not understand, but one mistake was all it took for a knitter to doubt her ability.

  “I have no idea what I did wrong. Maybe I should give up on doing the knit-along.”

  “Louise . . . breathe! And hush. Let me figure out what you’ve got here,” Mavis Anne told her.

  I glanced over to see Mavis taking apart a few rows and a few minutes later heard her say, “Okay. You’re good to go. I fixed your error. Here. Keep knitting.”

  Louise let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank you. That’s what I get for trying to knit when I had one eye on Downton Abbey.”

  The conversation quickly turned to discussing the latest episode of the popular British series.

  By the time we closed at five, we’d had another very successful day with sales. We had a group of customers who were visiting from Canada and about ten women from a Red Hatter group in the Miami area had stopped by, in addition to quite a few others.

  “Another good day,” I told Mavis Anne. “How’d you do, Yarrow?”

  “Very well. I’m glad I decided to also sell coffee. Tea is still my number one seller, but a lot of people like their coffee.”

  “Well, I think everything is straightened out here,” I said. “I’m going to go figure out what I’m wearing tonight.”

  “Oh, that’s right.” A smile covered Mavis Anne’s face. “You have your date with Henry Wagner. But you mean to tell me he’s arriving in two hours and you don’t even know what you’re wearing yet?”

  I shrugged. “Not really.”

  “Oh, Chloe. Shame on you. In my day, a girl knew weeks ahead of time what she was wearing for a planned date.”

  Yarrow laughed and said, “Yeah, you might want to give that some serious thought.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  She paused a moment before saying, “Well . . . he is pretty hot.”

  “What? How do you know this? Oh, wait . . . you did check him out on Google, didn’t you?”

  Yarrow laughed again. “Well, of course I did. What are friends for?”

  I was dying to ask what he looked like but I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.

  “And aren’t you just the tiniest bit curious?” she asked.

  “No,” I stated emphatically. “I am not.” I gathered up my purse and knitting bag. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

  “Have a great time,” they both called as I headed toward the door.

  I walked into the kitchen, poured myself a glass of white wine and went upstairs to go through my wardrobe. I quickly decided on a black sleeveless dress. Simple but stylish. I crawled around the bottom of my closet and finally found my black dressy sandals.

  “There,” I said to Basil, who was curled up on my bed. “How difficult was that?”

  I opened the bureau drawer that held my knitted shawls and chose a black and silver one. It might only be September, but the air conditioning in restaurants could be chilly.

  I headed to the bathroom and was going to take a shower when I spied the spa tub I’d never used in the three months I’d lived here. I still had almost two hours before Henry arrived. Why not? I thought and turned on the faucets to fill the tub.

  A few minutes later I was luxuriating in a lavender scented bubble bath as I sipped my wine and wondered why I didn’t do this more often. My thoughts wandered to Henry Wagner. Had Yarrow just been kidding me about him being hot? Probably. And what did it matter anyway? This was a simple dinner date. It only made sense to finally meet each other.

  I did find myself taking extra care with my makeup and hair, though. And by the time I slipped the dress over my head and twirled in front of the mirror, I was pleased with the reflection looking back at me.

  At precisely seven, the bell rang, causing Basil to race to the front door. I opened it and saw a tall man standing on the porch. In one swift gaze I took in his thick white hair, bronze tan, navy sport jacket, open-collar white shirt, and gray slacks. And with that one gaze I knew Yarrow had been correct.

  “Henry, hi. Come on in.” For one awkward moment I wasn’t sure whether to shake his hand or kiss his cheek.

  But he quickly settled the question when he opened his arms for a hug.

  A huge smile covered his handsome face when he stepped back and said, “It’s so nice to finally meet you, Chloe.”

  “Same here,” I said, and it was then that I noticed he was holding a gorgeous bouquet of flowers.

  “These are for you.”

  “Thank you so much. Come into the kitchen while I put these in water.”

  Basil was beside himself with joy, jumping in circles trying to get Henry’s attention.

  “And you must be Basil. What a sweet little guy,” he said, bending over to pat him.

  “Thanks,” I said, heading toward the back of the house. “As you can see, he’s not shy.”

  I heard Henry laugh as he followed behind me. That same laugh I’d heard on the phone a million times.

  “This is a lovely house,” he said.

  I reached into the cabinet for a vase and began to fill it with water. “I know. I just love it here.” I arranged the peach roses and baby’s breath in the vase. “Thank you again for these flowers. They’re just gorgeous.”

  “My pleasure. Oh, is that the yarn and tea shop back there?” he asked, pointing out the French doors.

  “Yes, it is. You’ll have to drop by some time for tea or coffee.”

  “I’ll definitely do that,” he said. I noticed the emphasis in his tone.

  I placed the vase on the table. “Let me get my bag and shawl and I’ll be all set.” />
  I was surprised when we walked out to the driveway to see a station wagon parked there. I somehow thought Henry would be a sedan owner, but then I saw it was a luxury Cadillac SRX and I also realized the extra room in back would be for Delilah.

  On the drive to the restaurant, Henry talked about his photo assignment in the Blue Ridge Mountains, which allowed me to nod and take sneak peeks at him. I noticed he wore what appeared to be a college ring on his right hand. I also noticed he had a great profile, which made him look distinguished. Dressed in the sport jacket, he could have passed for a college professor or a politician.

  Before I knew it, we were at Chart House. Henry gave a fellow his key for valet parking. The hostess led us to a table near the window overlooking the Halifax River. I noticed that Henry had lightly touched the small of my back to guide me and then proceeded to pull out my chair. His manners weren’t lost on me.

  “The wine list, sir,” the hostess told him as she passed him the leather-covered booklet.

  “Thank you.” He reached into his shirt pocket for a pair of reading glasses and studied the list—as I studied him.

  He was quite a handsome man. But in addition to his good looks he had an air of confidence about him. Not in an arrogant way, but natural, as though he was used to bringing any situation to a satisfying outcome. He struck me as a man who made a decision and acted on it.

  “How does a bottle of cabernet sound?” he asked, pulling me out of my thoughts.

  I nodded. “Great.”

  He gave the order to the waitress and smiled at me across the table.

  “It’s so nice to finally get to meet you, Chloe,” he said, and I realized this was the second time this evening he’d told me that. “It probably sounds silly, but from our phone conversations I feel like I already know you.”

  I felt the same way. “I agree. Maybe there’s something to those Internet dating sites after all.”

  He laughed and raised his eyebrows. “Could be. So tell me about yourself, Chloe. I’d like to know everything about you.”

  And over the next two hours, I did. As we enjoyed our wine, then a delicious Atlantic salmon dinner, followed by dessert and coffee, I told him about Grace and Aunt Maude, my previous marriage to Parker, my two sons, relocating to Cedar Key, the loss of Gabe, and about my decision to rent his condo.