Chapter 11
All I had to do was not.
I could’ve sat my ass at my apartment in Denver, gone to therapy, and pretended to be happy. I’d been doing it for years by that point, and other than the bone-crushing numbness that was slowly eating away at my spirit and soul, it was working out just fine for me.
But noooooo.
I had to turn my life upside down. I had to up and leave everything and everyone I knew in order to move to some small Texas town. And for what? To brush up on my knitting skills while a group of strangers talks about me like I’m not in the room?
Well…yeah.
And honestly? It’s pretty freaking amazing.
“I don’t know why she would buy the house in the first place,” Esther says. “A fixer-upper? In this economy? Bless her heart, but it doesn’t make much sense if you ask me.”
Esther is a few years older than my grandma would be.
Bright red lipstick matches her flaming red hair that seems to be more of a warning than a style choice.
The deep-set lines framing her eyes hint at a life well lived while the lines engraved on her forehead tell the story of a woman who is not one to suffer fools.
She has a sharp tongue and a sharper sense of humor, and although I’ve only known her for a few hours, I already know I would die for her.
“Esther!” Millie’s cheeks heat to the color of Esther’s hair as she chastises her for the millionth time. “Could you please refrain from insulting Luna? You don’t spend enough here to scare her away.”
“Oh please.” Esther shoos Millie away and waves her knitting needle more like a weapon than an innocent craft tool.
“If I didn’t think she could handle it, I’d wait until she left to talk about her like I do whenever I talk to those two fools opening that ridiculous juice bar next door.
Luna might be from the city, but she’s a tough one.
She doesn’t need you fighting her battles for her, Millicent Marie Dean. ”
Esther doesn’t give the impression that she warms to new people or doles out compliments easily.
I haven’t lived in the South long enough to be sure that she’s not insulting me, but even though her words were on the harsh side, the fondness in her tone allows me to err on the side of optimism.
And for reasons I’m not sure I’m prepared to process, the approval of this older woman causes my heart to sing.
“Yeah, Millicent Marie Dean. I don’t need you fighting my battles for me,” I say, and my smile doubles in size when Millie’s blue eyes shoot daggers at me. “But you know what would’ve been nice?”
She folds her arms in front of her chest and rolls her eyes. “What?”
“You telling me that Silas and Tate were brothers instead of letting me get blindsided in my own freaking living room,” I say.
The attitude she was sporting only seconds ago evaporates into thin air.
“Oh…” She looks down, all of a sudden enraptured with the knitting square she’s only looked at twice since class started. “That.”
“Yeah,” I mock. “That.”
Before moving to Celestial, I barely even took personal calls outside of my apartment, and I would’ve never dreamt of discussing my private life in such a public setting. But I guess there’s freedom in everyone knowing your business at all times.
Katy-Anne gasps and her brown eyes nearly bulge out of her head. “You didn’t tell her they were brothers?”
“No, Katy-Anne, she didn’t. Not even when I stood in this very store, asking about Silas and Tate,” I answer for Millie and take more pleasure than I should at her obvious discomfort.
“And now I’ve been stuck at my house for the last two weeks while Tate works on my bathroom and Silas randomly checks in. It has not been fun.”
That’s not the total truth.
Getting to see Tate looking all hot in his jeans with a toolbox isn’t exactly a hardship. Plus, Duke and I have started to become great friends. And it’s absolutely not because I’ve been sneaking him the homemade dog biscuits I bake fresh for him each week.
Esther shakes her head and tsks her tongue, her silent judgment louder than words could ever be. Miss Margaret, on the other hand, is much more vocal about her feelings.
“Now, Millie,” she says, her gentle voice thick with disapproval. “Why would you do such a thing? That doesn’t sound like you.”
Miss Margaret is the soft-spoken counterpart to Esther’s hard edges.
She carries herself with the grace of a dancer, so quiet and powerful that even the fine lines decorating her delicate mocha skin move with elegance.
Her gray hair is pulled into a bun at the back of her head, showcasing the dainty diamond earrings that complement the wedding ring she’s still wearing four years after her husband passed away.
It only takes a minute of being in her presence to know that I would do anything to never disappoint her.
I have to assume it’s also why her words seem to hit Millie the hardest.
“Okay, hold on. I’m not the bad guy here.
” Millie drops her knitting needles and square, needing full usage of both hands to defend herself.
“We all know Celestial loves its gossip. Everyone in this room has had the experience of information being shared about them that isn’t even remotely true, or worse, information that is true and we wanted to keep to ourselves.
And still, nobody in this room has been the center of gossip more than the Jacobs brothers and more specifically Tate. ”
Her heated eyes dart from person to person, as if daring someone to disagree with her, and are met with the silent agreement of the room instead.
“That’s what I thought,” she says. “The gossip mill was running rampant like it always does when it comes to Tate. When I realized Luna didn’t know the Jacobs family lore, I kept my mouth shut.
I thought that for once, Tate and Silas could tell their story for themselves instead of someone else doing it for them.
After everything that happened with Tate in…
Never mind.” She stops herself mid-sentence and focuses her attention on me instead.
I don’t know what she’s about to say, but I do know I’m not going to love it.
“They deserve that, and Luna, it might not feel like it, but so do you. I get that being new in a town like this can be hard. I’m sorry if you felt blindsided or like I set you up by keeping that information from you, because that was absolutely not my intention, but at the end of the day, I don’t regret my decision and I’d do it all over again. ”
Well, fuck!
This was only fun when I had the upper hand.
“Fine.” I deflate into the overstuffed chair and stab the needle through the yarn with much more force than necessary.
It’s bad enough to have to admit I’m wrong, but it’s even worse to admit someone else is right.
“I guess that was the right thing to do, and even though I don’t want to, I respect your decision. ”
“Thank you very much, Luna. It’s very mature of you to acknowledge your mistakes,” Millie says to me before shifting her smug grin to everyone else in the room.
“I hope you all learned a very valuable lesson here today and that in the future, should a situation like this ever arise again, you’ll know better than to doubt me.
As for apologies, I’ll accept them in the form of lavender soy lattes or—”
“Oh, put a sock in it,” Esther cuts her off. “The only apology you’ll get from me is a sorry kick in the ass if you don’t knock it off.”
Like I said, I’d die for her.
“Geez, Esther.” Millie picks up her knitting square. “No need for violence.”
“Not if you stop with the nonsense, there’s not,” Esther says.
I try to swallow my laughter, but a very unladylike snort slips out, and Millie’s glare slices straight through me. She opens her mouth to say something I can only assume is going to be laced with snark, but Katy-Anne beats her to it.
“So, Luna!” Katy-Anne says quickly, her Southern drawl sounding a bit thicker than it did before. “Other than a few more renovations than you planned for, how are you liking Celestial so far?”
“I’m loving it,” I tell her honestly. “I don’t know what I expected, but so far it’s managed to exceed all my expectations.”
Well, everything other than my bathtub falling through my ceiling, that is.
“I’m sure that has nothing at all to do with the handsome cowboy next door or the hot football coach in town, right?” Millie’s eyes dance with mischief, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she stuck her tongue out at me.
“I thought you said you didn’t want to participate in the Celestial gossip mill.” I repeat her words back to her, but instead of the intended effect I thought they’d have, her smirk turns into a full-blown grin.
“Nice try,” she says. “But it’s not gossip if we get it from the source.”
I hate that her flawed logic makes perfect sense. I don’t even have a chance to come up with an excuse before Miss Margaret aims her big expectant eyes at me. I couldn’t live with myself if I disappointed her.
“Okay.” I lean forward and drop my voice to a whisper. “But everyone has to promise that what happens in knitting circle, stays in knitting circle.”
“Cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye.” Katy-Anne recites the old childhood pledge. It takes on a much darker meaning while wielding said knitting needle.
Everyone joins in.
Everyone except for Esther, that is.
“What?” she asks when the group turns expectantly toward her. “You’re all overestimating how much I care and my desire to talk to other people. Both of which are close to zero.”
“Oh please, don’t try to play coy with me, Esther Briggs.
You’re just as bad as everyone else in this town.
” Miss Margaret purses her lips and rolls her eyes.
“Don’t think I forgot about the time you got Mary-Ellen kicked out of the church potluck or when you put flyers with pictures of Dan’s Oldsmobile on every street corner and called the sheriff until the police darn near put a tail on the man. ”
My ears perk up. Church potluck drama is the exact level of petty drama that I love to hear. I knew Esther had it in her.
“Oh, don’t you throw that in my face, Margaret.
You know damn well that happened after three years of Mary-Ellen having her grandson drive to Dallas and buy that coconut cake she tried to pass off as her own.
If she didn’t want to get disqualified, she shouldn’t have cheated.
” Esther’s voice is steadily rising, and her face grows closer and closer to matching her hair with every impassioned word she says.
“As for Dan, he was driving much too fast in residential areas. That wasn’t gossip, that was a safety measure, and I’m sorry that I care about the pedestrians of Celestial.
Next time I’ll let them get mowed down by Dan’s rusty heap of junk. ”
“He was only going a few miles over the speed limit and you know it,” Miss Margaret says.
I take her silence on cake scandal as confirmation that Mary-Ellen, who I have yet to meet, is indeed a dirty little scammer.
“You were just mad that he got the car when he divorced Cheryl. You wanted to punish him.”
“And?” Esther doesn’t bother to deny it. “She spent her entire life supporting that jerk. She was too nice to fight him for what she deserved. Somebody had to do it for her.”
Your honor, I love her.
“Sorry,” I say to Margaret. “I’ve got to get behind Esther on these ones.”
“Me too,” Millie says. “If anything, Esther is the Robin Hood of gossip and the town needs her service.”
“Thank you, girls.” Esther leans back into her seat, looking mighty pleased with herself.
“Now that I’ve been vindicated against Marge’s outrageous claims, you may continue, Luna.
” She pauses for a minute, and a playful smile I didn’t think her face was capable of producing tugs at the corners of her red lips.
“Just be sure not to leave out the good details.”
Miss Margaret throws her hand in the air and shouts, “See!”
Millie, Katy-Anne, and I burst into peals of laughter not long before Miss Margaret and Esther join in.
We laugh until we cry, all of us doubled over in the mismatched chairs, our knitting projects long forgotten.
By the time we collect ourselves enough for me to regale them with the tale of two brothers and a bathtub, mascara marks stain my flushed cheeks, my stomach is sore from laughing so hard, and I realize belatedly that for the first time in months I’m not thinking of my mom or the house I sold.
I’m not worried about tomorrow and what’s going to go wrong.
I’m not overthinking yesterday and what I could’ve done differently.
I stop performing the could’ve, should’ve, would’ve song and dance altogether, and for once, I’m perfectly present.
It might not seem like much to anyone else, but it’s everything to me.
Sitting in a craft store, surrounded by strangers, something inside of me shifts.
And I start to heal.