Chapter 7. Everyone Is Perfect in Their Own Way
Everyone Is Perfect in Their Own Way
I’d been worried when I first took over the business, because my grandmother’s regular customers were used to her warmth, her upbeat personality, and her in-depth knitting knowledge.
When I stepped in, none of them were too impressed with the fact that my knitting skills weren’t up to scratch.
Oma could make cable-knit sweaters and beautiful knee-length dresses and crochet all kinds of cute mini animals, whereas I’d have to consult patterns just to make scarves and beanies—something she could probably have done with her eyes closed.
The sad truth was that I was light-years away from being anywhere as good a knitter as my grandmother.
I didn’t have the patience for it, and as a little girl, the novelty of pretending to be A Very Important Adult managing a store and dealing with customers had been far more exciting than counting how many rows of knit stitches I’d worked on.
But over time, even though I hadn’t gotten better at knitting or crocheting, I had—somehow—won her regulars over.
Or maybe it was her regulars who had won me over, because I hated the thought of having to tell Melly, Selma, Anahita, or the other members of our knitting clubs that we might have to close our doors permanently.
And the gravity of the situation loomed like a guillotine over my head: The threat of having to close down my grandmother’s store—her legacy—was more than real, and if I didn’t do something to save it, the inevitable would happen.
Just then, the bell over the front door jingled, interrupting my train of thought. A young teenage girl wearing a floral summer dress walked in, her eyes darting across the store as if she was searching for something.
Nicole looked up from where she was restocking the shelves. “Hello. Can I help you?”
“Yes, please.” The girl brightened. “I’m planning to make the love of my life fall for me by crocheting him a wristband. He’s the best tennis player in the world, and it’ll be the perfect birthday gift for him.”
I glanced at her and raised my eyebrows—even though I knew I wasn’t supposed to—in a totally judgmental way. “Um, did you say the love of your life?”
The girl nodded, barely able to contain her enthusiasm. “He’s my soulmate.”
Nicole gave me a pointed look, as if saying, Shut up and let me handle this. “Of course. Have you done any crocheting before?”
The girl’s eyes twinkled with excitement. “No, but I’ve watched lots of video tutorials, and by the power of my love for him, I’m confident I’ll learn in no time.”
Yikes. Had no one ever told her that soulmates and true love weren’t real, but tales—nay, lies—spun by storytellers, hopeless romantics, and corporate sharks to dupe people into parting with their hard-earned money? (Valentine’s Day, anyone? Biggest scam in the entire universe.)
But Nicole was unfazed.
“You absolutely will. It’s very simple. If you run into any trouble, feel free to come back into the store and we can help you out.” She offered the girl a friendly smile. “I’ll show you what you need to get started.”
I watched as Nicole expertly—and very kindly, in a non-judgmental way—explained to the girl which hooks and yarn she needed to get.
The woman was a godsend, because the contrast of my response to hers was oceans apart.
I could handle the administrative side of the store, but she knew the place like the back of her hand, and on the days I had to drive Opa to dialysis, it was a relief knowing the store was in her capable hands.
Twenty minutes later, the girl was beaming as she bounced out of the store with her brand-new crocheting supplies.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Nicole.” I gave the older woman a grateful smile. “Promise me you’ll never leave.”
“Never. I love this place.” A sad smile crossed her face.
“Emilia was always so kind to me and my family. She was always flexible with schedules, so understanding whenever I had to leave early for family emergencies. That’s why I could never bring myself to look for another job, because no other employer would be as supportive.
” Nicole reached out to squeeze my hands.
“I’m so glad you’re continuing the business.
She worked so tirelessly for this place, and it’s wonderful to know her hard work isn’t going to be wasted. I really miss her.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat and gritted my teeth to stop the tears that were threatening to flood my eyes.
My grandmother had been gone for eighteen months, but that didn’t make the pain any easier to deal with.
I still found myself going into my old WhatsApp thread with her sometimes, wanting to tell her about my day, or to listen to her messages just to hear her familiar, comforting voice.
I’d never known a time when she wasn’t around, and the fact that she was no longer in my life often felt like I was in a horrible dream I couldn’t wake up from. “Me too, Nic.”
And this was yet another reason why I needed to fight for the store, because Nicole still depended on it for her livelihood.
The shop bell jingled again, and Nicole whistled under her breath when she glanced at the front door.
“Who is that, and where do I sign up for one?”
I quickly composed myself and followed her gaze to see Rob strolling into the shop. He had on dark jeans and a white T-shirt, with his hands shoved deep in his pockets as his curious gaze wandered around the space, taking in the wooden shelves stocked full of colorful yarn.
“Seriously? He’s probably your daughter’s age.”
“Exactly.” Nicole chuckled. “She’s just separated from her partner. Maybe I could get his number for her. I wonder if he’s single.”
I shouldn’t be bothered by what she’d said, because I loved Nicole like she was my own family, but I was, and the fact that I was even bothered was disturbing in itself, because why on Earth would I be? “He is. You’re in luck.”
Nicole eyed me with curiosity. “You know who he is?”
“I do.”
She swallowed her next question, as Rob walked up to us just then.
“Hey, Kim.” He nodded at me, then gave Nicole a friendly smile. I could almost see the cogs in her brain working overtime, sprinting ahead to plan his wedding to her daughter and naming their horde of unborn children.
“You’re early. Didn’t we say a quarter to six?”
“I finished a job earlier than I thought. No need to rush, I can wait.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder to indicate the front of the store. “Did you come up with that pun outside?”
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“I did.” I gave him a proud grin. “You like it?”
“Loved it.” He grinned back. “It’s pretty punny. Sorry, that was the best I could come up with. By the way, did you realize the handle on your front door is a bit loose?”
“I know.” I made a face. “It’s been on my to-do list for a while, but I just haven’t had the time to tackle it.”
“I can grab my toolbox from the car and fix it right now if you want. It’ll take me five, ten minutes while I wait for you to finish.”
“Oh.” I wasn’t expecting that. “Thank you, that would be so helpful.”
Nicole was standing next to me, listening to our conversation while giving me a not-so-subtle nudge. “Rob, this is Nicole, my grandmother’s most trusted employee,” I said. “Rob is the builder who worked on Ellie’s shop last year.”
She shook his hand, recognition in her eyes. “Of course. I didn’t recognize you without that neon-orange safety vest you usually wear.”
“Nicole’s daughter is single. She wants to get your number for her.”
Rob narrowed his eyes at me, as if saying, Really? You’re throwing me under the bus?
“Really.” I grinned at him. “Nic, go ahead and tell him about her.”
Before she could launch into a spiel about her daughter, Rob gave her an apologetic smile. “I’m flattered, and I’m sure your daughter is wonderful, but I’m not looking for a relationship right now.” He gave me a side-eye. “As Kim already knows.”
I returned his glare with an innocent Who, me? look. A part of me felt bad for a crestfallen Nicole, but a tiny part was also clapping with approval at his gentle rebuff.
Choosing not to overanalyze that thought, I began to balance the register, while Nicole vacuumed the store and Rob went to fix the door handle.
The cool summer evening greeted us as we stepped out of the store, and as we waved goodbye to Nicole, I could hear the faint sounds of live music from the rooftop entertainment area at Port Benedict Plaza.
“I skipped lunch, so I’m starving,” I said. “How long is this strategic wedding meeting going to take? Can we do it over dinner?”
He cocked an eyebrow at me. “Are you asking me on a date?”
“Save it, Carmichael.” I smirked at him. “Your flirtatious banter might work on other girls, but not me.”
“Is that so?” He gave me a slow smile, and I wondered if it was the breeze or that grin that made me shiver a little. “Anything I can do to change your mind?”
“I might have to get back to you on that.”
“Make sure you do.” His smile got bigger, and I decided that it was definitely not the breeze.
“Anyway, the purpose of tonight’s meeting is to help you get ready for the wedding.
I thought we could pay a quick visit to the hairdresser, and if you need any help, we can also choose your dress for tomorrow. ”
I stopped walking. “You mean like a makeover?”
He stopped with me. “If that’s what you want to call it.”
“No. We never agreed to any makeovers. I’m due for a trim, but other than that, I’m perfectly happy the way I currently am.
And I don’t need to buy fancy new dresses, because my closet at home is already overflowing as it is.
” Mostly with comfortable tops and jeans, but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.
“Yes, of course you’re already perfect the way you are.
” Rob’s tone was patient, as if he was persuading a toddler with a tantrum to calm down.
“We’re only going to make you look prettier and even more desirable for your potential partners.
A trim sounds great, then maybe we can have a look at the dresses you have at home.
If you want to.” He twirled his hand and gave me a bow. “I’m here at your service.”
“On one condition.”
A curious smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “Let’s hear it.”
“I’ll do it if you’re also getting a haircut. If I’m going to be stuck at the hairdresser for an hour or so, the least you can do is keep me company.”
“Is that all?” The smile turned into a huge grin. “From the look on your face, I thought you were going to ask me to jump through hoops of fire, or walk around the Waterfront in my underwear, or some other equally outrageous demand.”
Out of nowhere, a high-resolution image of him wearing nothing but snug boxer briefs suddenly sashayed through my brain.
Crap. Of course I’d never seen Rob in just his underwear or even shirtless in real life, but that tiny insignificant detail didn’t stop my imagination from running rampant.
I couldn’t unsee the image now, no matter how many times I shook my head to dislodge it, because it had latched itself onto the apparently thirsty neurons in my brain.
The only way I could probably remove it from their tight clutches was if I drove myself to the nearest hospital and begged the first neurosurgeon I could find to surgically eliminate those treacherous brain cells from existence.
“Kim? Did you hear me? Why are you shaking your head?”
“I’m, uh, tired. Feeling lethargic. Shaking my head keeps me awake.” I mentally cringed. That was the best I could come up with?
“So honored my charming self is keeping you captivated.”
“Barely.” I avoided looking at him, because the mental image of him in his underwear was still in my mind, smugly strutting down an imaginary catwalk.
And if I so much as glanced at him, I’d probably lose the plot by either laughing hysterically or demanding he strip down to his boxer briefs so I could compare my mental image with the real thing, before proceeding to drown him with my uncontrollable drool.
Damn it. I needed to get ahold of myself.
We grabbed a quick bite to eat, then went to my usual hairdresser, a small but popular Korean hair and beauty salon.
I’d been coming to this place ever since I moved back to Port Benedict, and every single time, I always asked for the same thing—a trim and a highlight.
Rob was ushered to the chair next to mine, and by the time our hairdressers were done, my hair had been trimmed a few inches, layered, and partially highlighted, while Rob’s was styled into a neat, simple short cut.
“Well,” I said, as my hairdresser took the barber cape off with a flourish, and I swiveled the chair in Rob’s direction, “what do you think?”
He swept a slow gaze over my face. “You look great. The brown highlights bring out the color of your eyes.”
My cheeks grew warm at his words. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”
“So.” Rob gave me a curious look as we stepped out of the salon and walked toward the parking lot. “Have you finished reading the dossier? Decided who you’re going to focus your efforts on?”
“Leaning toward Ben. He seems nice, and like you said, we have a lot in common.”
“Good choice. Did you have a chance to look at the first date ideas? There’s kayaking, paddleboarding, or sailing. Since, you know, he used to be a swimming instructor. Or if you prefer non-water-based activities, there’s also mini golf, yoga, or axe throwing.”
“We can go to Melly’s yoga studio,” I said. “Wait, he can’t, that’s women only. Axe throwing sounds good, too. I’ve never tried that. It might come in handy if the date doesn’t go well. I can fling the axe at him and be done with it.”
“You’d also be done with life.” He thought for a second. “Let me make myself clear here: Bailing you out of jail isn’t included in my services, okay?”
“That’s mean.” I gave him a sad pout. “True friends would bail each other out of jail.”
“I’ll come and visit, though,” he said. “What about mini golf? That’s always fun. Have you played before?”
“I haven’t.” That was a half lie, because even though I’d never played mini golf before, I’d briefly worked as a caddy back in college.
“Are you serious?” He gaped at me, looking scandalized. “It’s heaps of fun. Perfect for first dates. You’ve seriously never played?”
I bit back a grin. “I promise, I’ve never played mini golf in my entire life.”
“Unacceptable.” Rob glanced at his watch. “If we hurry, we might be able to squeeze in a game or two. Let’s go. We’re going mini golfing.”
I gaped at him. “Right now?”
“Yes. I’m gonna show you how it’s done.”