Chapter 35 Winnie
WINNIE
I knock on Jonah’s parents’ door and nervously wait for Meg to answer.
It’s freezing out, like it always is here, and I stuff my hands into the pockets of my fur coat.
Meg texted me this morning offering to teach me how to knit, and I jumped at the chance.
I’m not quite ready to admit exactly why it’s so important that Jonah’s family likes me, but it is.
Meg opens the door and ushers me inside, but not before giving my fur coat a once over.
“It’s cold out!” I chirp, before she can comment on it.
“I haven’t seen a coat like that in years.”
“Thanks.” I’m not really sure if she’s complimenting me, but whatever. “I really like vintage fashion and I’m glad to have the chance to wear it. But I obviously don’t agree with the fur industry!” It’s unnecessary information and Meg just looks at me blankly.
Great. We’re off to a terrific start.
“Um, so it’s great news about you being cancer free,” I say, trailing behind her into the living room. I sit next to her on the sofa, and look around for the knitting supplies. They’re nowhere to be found.
“Thank you, Winnie. I was worried about accruing more medical debt if I got sick again, since we already owed so much. Imagine my surprise when the billing department at the hospital told me I owed them nothing when I called. Apparently Jonah paid the balance off a few days after you two got married.” Meg raises a perfectly arched, blonde brow at me.
Her eyes are a similar shade to Jonah’s and he must have mastered the art of the assessing stare under her tutelage.
“That’s nice of him, though I’m not sure what that has to do with me.
” Normally, I’m a decent liar. I know how to paste on a smile and pretend I’m happy even when I feel like I’m dying inside.
And I grew up constantly lying to my parents: no I didn’t eat anything but a salad for lunch, yes I love the outfit you picked out for me, you don’t look a day over forty, Mom.
But as soon as I lie to Meg, I can tell she doesn’t buy it. Not one bit.
“I wondered why my son married you,” she muses. “You’re beautiful and kind, but Jonah isn’t the type to jump into things.”
“I know that. He’s too thoughtful to make rash decisions.”
Meg looks slightly surprised for a moment, like she can’t believe I know Jonah that well.
“And it didn’t make sense why you married him either. He can’t give a woman like you the type of life you’re used to or the one you—”
“The type of life I want is the one I have right now, here, in Star Mountain. I like working at the barn. I love the town. I like peace and quiet.” I try to keep my voice steady, but it shakes anyways.
“Fair enough. I’m not trying to insult you,” Meg explains, her voice softer now. “I just couldn’t make the pieces fit together. Jack told me I was overthinking things, and that it was clear that you two cared for one another.”
“We do,” I interrupt. “We really, truly do.”
“I understand that. But I want to know why you married my son, and why my medical debts are cleared.”
I take a deep breath and let it out, trying to steady myself. I’m not sure how to answer her. I don’t want to tell her the truth without Jonah here with me, but I also can’t lie to her any longer, that much is clear. She won’t accept anything else from me but honesty.
“The money Jonah used to pay your medical bills came from my trust fund,” I explain. Meg takes this in stride, and just nods. “I could only access it at the age of thirty or when I got married, and I needed the money. Getting married to Jonah was faster than waiting another four years.”
Meg just looks at me, like she expects there to be more of the story. “And why did you need this money so badly?”
“I don’t really want to explain it,” I admit. “It hurts to talk about.”
“How about this,” Meg says, reaching under the coffee table and grabbing a basket. “I’ll teach you one thing about knitting, and you tell me one thing about yourself.” She grabs a ball of pink yarn from the basket and holds it out to me.
I think about her offer for a moment. Telling anyone about my relationship with my parents makes me feel vulnerable and small—like something must be wrong with me, for them to not love me even though I’m their only child.
But I don’t think Jonah’s mom will judge me for how they are.
She seems like too good of a parent to do that.
I take the ball of yarn from Meg’s hand and give her a weak smile. It’s soft under my fingers and I know that whatever we make out of it will be lovely.
“This is called a skein,” she says. “It’s made of wool and silk, and it takes me about six skeins of that to make a sweater.”
I take a deep breath. “Back home, in Alabama, being a pageant queen was only one part of my job. I made most of my money on social media and my parents took nearly every penny of it from me.”
Meg just nods, and then reaches into the basket and shows me the needles, explaining what she uses each type for. She even has needles she can use to knit something round, like a hat.
“I started doing pageants when I was ten as a way to get my parents to pay attention to me,” I tell her. “But I’ve…” My voice cracks a bit. “I’ve regretted that decision for a long time.”
Meg’s stare hardens. “You were a child. There is no reason for you to regret anything.” She shakes her head and then takes out a ball of yarn in the same color. “I’ll show you how to get started. We call it casting on.”
She shows me how to make a knot and fix the yarn to the needles, and then she walks me through a basic stitch.
She shows me how to do it first, and explains each step.
I don’t quite get it at first, and it takes me a few tries to feel like I’m moving my hands the right way.
By the time I knit a row of stitches myself, I’ve told her most of my story.
I tell her a bit about my life in my parents’ house, and how controlling they were. I tell her about Carly and how she helped me plan out my escape. I show her a photo of what I used to look like. I explain that Candice has been my best friend for years, which is why I ended up in Star Mountain.
“And that brings me to Jonah,” I say. “I needed money to fight whatever my parents threw at me and to live my life. Jonah told me about your medical debt and I thought he might say yes to a marriage of convenience. After he agreed, we decided we needed to make it look real for the time being, at least until my parents can’t use that as ammunition against us.
Honestly, I worry I might have taken advantage of how kind he is. ”
“Jonah is stubborn, and he doesn’t do anything that he doesn’t want to do. If he agreed to this, he did so because he actually wanted to.” Meg gives me a forced smile, and I can tell that she’s still not happy with the situation.
“I think he just wanted to do the right thing for you,” I offer.
She doesn’t respond for a moment, and takes the knitting from me.
“Not bad for a beginner,” she muses. “It’s not easy, as a parent, to need your child’s help.
I’m supposed to care for Jonah, not the other way around.
I didn’t like that he was shouldering the burden of my medical debt, but he did.
Jack is retired and I stopped working while I was sick, so it wasn’t easy for us to cover on our own.
I hate that he felt he needed to marry someone to help me. ”
Jonah must get his pride in himself and his self-reliance from his mom.
“That makes sense,” I say slowly. “But I think Jonah just wanted to help you, and to help me too. He was able to do both of those things by marrying me, so I think in his mind, that made it a good decision. He’s very good at helping other people, and not very good at receiving help in return.”
“It sounds like you know him fairly well.” Meg sets the knitting down and walks over to the fireplace. She throws another log onto the fire, and gives it a good poke.
“I guess so. We do live together.”
“It seems like more than just that.” Meg raises a brow at me, and I can’t help but smile.
“We’re still figuring things out,” I say. “But there is more between us than we expected there to be. You know, Jonah didn’t even really like me at first and was pretty rude to me the first time we met.”
Meg snorts. “Sounds like my son.”
“Are you upset?” I venture. “About us getting married and me giving Jonah money?”
“I won’t pretend that your money hasn’t been a blessing, but I am upset that you two lied about it. Though most of that is between me and my son. He knows better than to lie to me and Jack like that. We raised him better.”
“You raised him perfectly,” I say fiercely. “I hope you don’t hold this against Jonah because honestly, it was my idea, and he can’t be blamed for following along with my schemes.”
Meg nods along and gives me a tight smile. I can tell that she’s still pissed off at Jonah, and I’ll have to warn him about it when I get home. She’s not done with me yet though, and she asks me an excruciating question next.
“When are you two planning on getting divorced?”
“Um. Not sure?”
Well that was the answer of the century, Winnie, I think to myself. Meg is equally unimpressed and her knitting needles clack away as she waits for me to say more.
“We won’t get divorced until my parents are taken care of.” And now I sound like a mob boss. It’s not like I’m going to take a hit out on them, though the thought does sound a bit appealing.
“Well, don’t do anything rash.”
“Like getting married to a man you’ve known for a few weeks and moving in with him immediately?”
“I was thinking you shouldn’t divorce him too quickly, either,” Meg offers.
I just nod, because I know that if I open my mouth, all of my messy emotions will pour out of it.
Meg teaches me a bit more about moving the needles correctly, and I practice knitting a few more rows.
The entire time, though, I’m thinking about Meg’s final question, and how badly I want the answer to be never.
When I get home from Jonah’s parents’ house, I find him practicing music in the living room with members of the band that plays at the Neon Horseshoe.
I slip into the kitchen and watch, hoping none of them mind.
They barely all fit into our tiny house, and Jonah pushed the couch back to make space.
The Christmas tree is lighting the living room up in a warm glow, and it almost feels like a jazz club at the holidays, stuffed with people, good music, and cheer.
A woman with long, straight dark hair and light brown skin is playing the keyboard, her fingers a blur over the keys.
The bassist is a tall, muscular man with pale skin and long brown hair, and the drummer is so small I can barely make them out behind the symbols.
There’s also a guitarist, and of course, Jonah.
He’s singing a song about the way the mountains look rising from the fields at dawn, called “Morning Lonesome.” His voice captivates me, like it always does, and I barely even see the rest of the band. They sound great, but he’s what makes it all work—his confidence, his talent, his strength.
He sings the final words of the song and strums the final chord, and the other band members finish perfectly in time. I clap and then let out a whistle. Jonah’s eyes fly to me and he smiles.
“Didn’t notice you there, Win.”
“So this is the famous Winnie,” the bass player says, looking me up and down.
“Jonah talked our heads off about you before we started playing. He said his wife helped him finish writing some of these songs,” the woman at the keyboard says.
“Just one. And only a few bars.” I blush.
“I’m Matt,” the bassist says. I walk over and shake his hand.
“Gerry,” from the guitarist.
“Klein!” squeaks the tiny drummer. “Nice to meet you.”
“I’m Anna.” The key board player shakes my hand and smiles warmly at me. “Jonah tells us that you sing, too?”
“A bit.”
“That’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one,” Jonah says. “Every morning, the shower basically gets turned into the Super Bowl halftime show.”
“Come on then, let’s hear it,” Anna says enthusiastically. “I have time for one more song before we pack up. I’m competing in the rodeo on the rez tomorrow and I need to get to bed early.”
“Are you sure?” I ask, glancing at each of the band members.
“How about the one we worked on together? We can trade off on taking the melody,” Jonah suggests.
“I’ve heard you practice it enough that I think I know it,” I confirm.
Jonah starts strumming the chords, and the rest of the band joins in.
I’ve never heard this song with more than just Jonah’s voice and his acoustic guitar.
The other instruments fill out the sound, turning it into a full blown ballad.
Jonah starts to sing, and I’m reminded that the lyrics to this one are very romantic.
It would almost be a love song, were it not for the hint of anxiety that haunts some of the verses.
I take the second verse and Jonah harmonizes with me.
We lean into the microphone together, and as our eyes lock, the rest of the world melts away.
It’s just us and the music, and I try not to think about the words I’m singing, and how much I relate to them.
Jonah’s voice carries us through the chorus and the bridge, and I join him once more at the end.
We finish off the song with a keyboard solo from Anna, and a few bars of drums from Klein. The band is cheering and whooping when we’re done.
“That felt fucking great,” Gerry said. “That one should close the record, Jonah. With Winnie on it, too.”
“Definitely,” Jonah confirms, without any hesitation. It warms my heart to know that he wants me helping him with something so important to him, and that he thinks we’ll still be together when they record it.
It’s feeling more and more like we actually could be, and for once, that thought just makes me smile. No anxiety, no fear.
Just me and Jonah.