Chapter Twenty-Six
Piper has the room to herself while her mother teaches the bachelor party how to knit. It gives her time to strategize about
convincing Maggie to go camping without her. It will be a tough sell.
She unpacks her knitting bag, looking for a place to put her practice swatches from the brioche and lace workshops. Then she
changes into sweats and a long-sleeved T-shirt and sits cross-legged on her bed against pillows. Looking around the room,
she sees yarn is everywhere: on top of the dresser, in bags on the floor, spilling out of drawers. Either the yarn is magically
reproducing or her mother has lost all restraint.
Piper reaches for one of the skeins still wrapped in its label. The yarn is hand-dyed merino wool in multiple shades of purple,
from eggplant and plum, lilac and lavender. It’s buttery soft, and she winds it on her knees.
Her phone rings with a call from Ethan.
“How’s it going?” he says, and the sound of his voice floods her with warmth. She decides whatever she was annoyed about earlier
couldn’t have been that important, because she’s forgotten already.
“Hi! Good timing. I just got back to the room. It’s been nonstop here.”
“Looks like it,” he says, an unmistakable edge to his voice.
“What do you mean?”
“I saw your posts.”
She stops winding for a moment, wondering what he’s talking about. It takes a second or two to realize it’s the Hannah Elise
videos; she was tagged as a collaborator so they’d automatically show up on her account.
“Oh yeah—she’s one of the instructors here. I actually follow her. She’s from Brooklyn. Small world.”
“And the guy?”
What guy? Oh.
“That’s just Cole.”
“He doesn’t look like a knitter.”
Ethan’s not usually jealous. But the video must be a stark contrast to the cozy old lady retreat he imagined. Maybe that’s
a good thing. Maybe he’s started getting a little too comfortable in the relationship. Taking her for granted.
“He’s not. There’s a bachelor party at the inn. Cole’s here with his dad. It’s funny, actually—we’re trying to set Maggie
up with him.”
Ethan is quiet. “Okay. Well, I’m glad you’re having a good time. Did you decide what to do about Gretchen?”
“No. I’m trying not to think about her.” She starts winding again. The yarn has an airy, squishy feel to it, and she decides
she’ll start a blanket. Something simple and meditative. Something she can work on tonight while she’s alone.
“So tell me more about the retreat. What’s been the highlight?”
She thinks about the cute town, and meeting Hannah Elise, and the great food, and being in nature. And she realizes her favorite
experience so far was the surprise trip to the animal shelter.
“I found a baby sparrow in the woods and brought it to an incredible wildlife refuge out here.”
“Were you guys knitting outside?”
“No. It’s a long story.” She hesitates to tell him another story that includes Cole, but she has nothing to feel guilty about.
“My mom and Cole’s dad made some sort of bet last night at the bar, and so I ended up going with her to build a fort.”
“With the bachelor party?”
“No—not the whole bachelor party. Just with Aidan and Cole.”
Ethan is quiet for a few seconds.
Then he says, “Maggie’s not trying to set you up, is she?”
Wow, he really has a thing about her mother these days. Now she remembers why she was annoyed during their last conversation.
“Why would you even say that?”
“I’m joking.”
He’s not, but she’s going to let it go. They’re simply a little off this weekend, and she doesn’t want to make a big deal
out of it. Like he said: They can talk when she gets back. “Anyway, I’m staying in tonight. Alone. Just me and my knitting
needles. I think I’m going to make little blankets to donate to the animal shelter.”
She hears her mother’s key in the door. Piper doesn’t want to continue the awkward conversation in front of her. She tells
Ethan her mother is walking in and that she’ll call him a little later.
Maggie’s cheeks are flushed and she’s carrying a paper takeout cup.
“Hey there! In case you missed the hot chocolate cart.” She puts the cup down on the dresser and tells her all about the knitting class for the bachelors.
“I’d forgotten how challenging knitting can be to start—how what’s second nature to us can totally trip up beginners.
And it was kinda special to see people connect to knitting for the first time.
Especially a group of skeptics.” She goes on and on about how a few of the guys seemed genuinely pleased with themselves by the end of the class.
“Sorry I missed it,” Piper says.
Maggie smiles. “Me too. I wish you were there. Who knows—maybe this won’t be the last workshop I ever teach.” She turns to
the wooden dresser and pulls out socks and sweaters. “Are you packed for tonight? We’re meeting Aidan in the lobby after dinner.”
Here it goes.
“Yeah, about that: I think you’re going to have to go without me.”
Maggie stands up. “Why? I know Cole dropped out. But I told Aidan you and I are still up for it.”
Piper presses her fingers to her temples. “I have a headache.”
Maggie stops her flurry of movement around the room. “Oh no. You haven’t been having them since the fall, have you?”
“What? No. No—nothing like that. Maybe it’s the change in climate.”
“We’re two hours from Manhattan.”
Piper shrugs. “The fresh air is a shock to the system. It doesn’t matter; I’m going to sleep it off. But you should go have
fun.”
Maggie opens the dresser drawers again, putting the clothes back in.
“What are you doing?” Piper says.
“I’m not leaving you here all alone.”
“Oh, yes you are.” Piper sits up. “You can’t just sit here with me in a dark room for hours.” Or maybe she could—but Piper
doesn’t want her to. “Please just go without me.”
Maggie shakes her head. “Absolutely not. I’ll keep you company. You’ll need dinner, won’t you?”
Piper realizes her tactical error. “Mom, I’m fine. I don’t even have a headache. I only said that so you’ll go without me.”
“Why would you do that?” Maggie looks baffled. Maybe even a little hurt.
Piper chooses her words carefully. “Because Aidan obviously likes you. And you like him. So go—have fun. It’s a Saturday night.”
“But it’s our girls’ weekend!”
“Mom, our entire life has been one long girls’ weekend.”
Maggie moves closer, sits on the edge of Piper’s bed.
“Do you need space from me?” she asks.
“If I say yes, will you go?” This makes them both laugh for some reason. Maggie looks down at the needles and yarn in Piper’s
lap.
“You’re really just going to stay in and knit?” she says.
Piper nods.
“Okay. I’ll go. But if you change your mind, I’ll come back anytime.”
So it wasn’t such a tough sell after all. All she had to do was tell her the truth. That’s the one thing that had always set
them apart from other mothers and daughters: No matter what, they always kept it real.
That’s what makes the whole disappearing engagement ring so upsetting. It’s okay if Ethan changed his mind. But she wants
him to be honest with her.
The only dealbreaker in a relationship is dishonesty. And she wonders if the only person she can count on for the real truth,
no matter what, is her mother.
Belinda and Max traditionally eat dinner out together on Saturday nights. Since they work together and also live at their
work, it’s especially important that they carve out time to be a couple.
Tonight they go to the Salt House, a gastropub right around the corner housed in a building dating back to the 1700s.
Inside, Belinda always feels the history in the small, tight dimensions of the place, and it creates an intimate environment.
Like the inn before they renovated it, the first-floor dining room is all exposed wooden beams and stone walls.
Belinda and Max, as regulars, score a coveted table for two near the roaring fireplace.
They order their usual: fish and chips for her, a burger and beer for him.
Another relationship rule for their Saturday evenings is that they don’t talk business. But before their entrées arrive, Max
says, “Have you given any more thought to the offer?”
But then, selling the inn isn’t just a business decision. It’s personal. All too personal.
She shakes her head. “Max. I don’t want to think about losing the inn while I’m in the middle of a retreat weekend.”
“We’re not losing the inn, Bee. We’re gaining some financial security. And a new adventure. I think it’s exciting to talk about.”
“Well, we’ll just have to agree to disagree on this one.” She sips her red wine. He nods, recalibrating, knowing it’s better
not to push.
“Okay. What would you like to talk about?”
She wants to talk about the afternoon, the unexpected turn things took with their knitting-bushcraft challenge and the trip
to the axe place. She’d known Barclay Cavanaugh casually for years, but after this afternoon, she considers them friends.
His gruff, slightly off-putting exterior hides a delightful, mischievous kid inside. She had so much fun playing yin to his
yang with the group, she found herself wishing it was Max leading the charge with the bachelors while she played team captain
with the knitters.
Where to begin? “I don’t know how it started, but the knitters and the bachelor party have a competition to prove what’s more challenging: knitting or bushcraft. So we all went axe-throwing this afternoon, and then one of my knitters taught the guys a beginner’s class. They really hit it off.”
Max smiles appreciatively. “See? Things tend to work out. You need to worry less and trust me more.”
“That’s a little self-serving,” she says. “Anyway, it was fun. I wished you were there. Maybe if we do something like that
again tomorrow you’ll tag along?”
He breaks eye contact. “Actually, I was thinking of doing a little housing research tomorrow. The Realtor tipped me off about
a great town house for rent right off Chestnut Street. I know you’re not free to come along, but I figure if it’s promising,
we’ll go together after the weekend.” He notices the upset look on her face and quickly adds, “Unless you don’t want me to
go without you at all. I just wanted to get a jump on things.”
“I don’t mind you going without me. But I think it’s premature to start looking for a new place to live.” She can’t even try
to hide her dismay. Things are moving too fast.
She knows Max has a restless streak. It’s what led him to stray from their marriage in the first place. She thought he’d matured
out of that. Apparently, she was wrong.
“We should at least get a sense of the market so we can make educated decisions moving forward. That’s why I’m happy to go
do some of the legwork on my own.”
Belinda doesn’t know what to say. They’re so far apart on this issue, it scares her.
He reaches for her hand, enclosing it in both of his own. Their eyes meet across the table, and she wants to find reassurance
in their connection. She tries. He pulls one hand free and then the other, and he looks something up on his phone. He turns
to show her the screen. It’s a brownstone in Center City.
“Look at this beauty. Our retirement.”
She doesn’t want to retire. And she doesn’t understand why, after all this time, he wants to go back to Philadelphia.
It had been a huge adjustment to leave all those years ago, and under painful circumstances.
She convinced herself, long before it was true, that country living suited her.
And now it did. And what—he’s changed his mind?
He wants to walk away from everything they’ve built together for the past three decades.
But what choice does she have? Either she leaves the inn, or she leaves her marriage.
And she decided long ago that she’s never leaving her marriage.