Chapter 22
‘You’re… back together?’
I took a sip of my tea, looking away from Emma as she gaped at me.
The shop was empty, as per usual for that soon after opening.
We were sitting by the counter and having our morning tea as we exchanged plans for the weekend.
Emma had just finished telling me about an axe-throwing date she’d decided to go on with a woman she’d met online and so I’d passed on my own nugget of news.
She looked upset but also worried, like I’d just told her I planned to quit the shop and become a nun. She looked at me like I wasn’t making any sense at all.
‘Yeah… he apologised again. He seems to really mean it, so…’ I shrugged, hoping she’d drop the subject if I could just telegraph how nonchalant I was about it. ‘So have you seen this axe-throwing babe before or…?’
But she wasn’t taking the bait. ‘Tabitha, I’m happy if you’re happy, you know that but… I’m just a bit worried because you were so heartbroken and so sure you were done with him. This feels like a massive one-eighty and I just want to make sure it wasn’t… caused by something major.’
‘Like?’ I asked.
Emma looked really uncomfortable now. ‘I don’t know, the housing situation maybe? Or you’re worried about starting to date again? It just feels like maybe you’re sort of rebounding on Richard… with Richard.’
I felt my face start to grow hot. ‘I’m not “rebounding”, I’m just… being realistic, for a change.’
That only seemed to deepen Emma’s confusion. ‘What do you mean “for a change”? When have you not been realistic? I thought you were handling things really well since he moved out.’
‘Well, look at this place for starters,’ I said, my flush deepening.
‘I had this big dream about a yarn shop and I didn’t really think it through.
I just acted on a whim. I haven’t managed to do anything to bring sales in.
I just started this without any sense of what was realistic.
I mean, a shop like this in a town this small?
It makes no sense and we’re probably going to have to close down eventually. ’
‘… Oh,’ Emma said, crestfallen. Her eyes were huge with worry. ‘You’re closing the shop? What about the Stitch and Witch? When were you going to tell me I’d be looking for a new job?’
‘No! We’re not closing, like, right now.
’ I was getting flustered now. Why wouldn’t she just leave it alone?
‘I’m not planning to at the moment but, come on, it’s hardly buzzing in here, is it?
It feels like we’re on borrowed time and have been since we opened. I’m sorry… I thought that was obvious.’
‘But what does that have to do with Richard?’ Emma persisted, her expressive eyes narrowing. She tilted her head like a particularly savvy crow, her long gemstone earrings swaying. ‘Is this whole “reunion” about money worries, because, if it is, you know I’ll help any way I can, you’re not alone…’
‘It’s just about me planning for the future,’ I said, standing up and taking my mug to the back in an attempt to forestall further comment.
My hands were shaking. ‘I’m nearly thirty and everyone I went to school with is getting married and has kids.
Kids plural! I can’t just keep wishing and hoping that I’ll get the life I want. I have to do something about it.’
‘And that something is settling for Richard?’ Emma asked, coming to stand in the doorway. ‘Is he really who you see yourself spending the rest of your life with? Thirty isn’t dead – you’ve got decades of life left after that.’
‘I know, and I’m not settling, I’m being realistic. He’s a successful, intelligent, stable guy.’ It had all been so clear last night – why was she doing this to me now? I could feel a headache coming on.
‘And he cheated on you. What’s to stop him doing it again?’ Emma pointed out, unnecessarily in my opinion. I’d been there after all, I’d seen it. It happened to me, not her. Embarrassment was turning to annoyance as this conversation continued.
‘And he said he was sorry, so I forgave him. That’s what adults do. They talk through their problems and fix them,’ I said, my voice sharper than I’d intended it to be. ‘They don’t throw salt at it and wish it away. It’s time to grow up!’
As soon as the words were out, I wanted to snatch them back.
I hadn’t meant to throw in an insult to Emma’s witchy beliefs, but it was too late.
I saw it land. I saw it hurt her and watched as she quickly covered that hurt up, as if she didn’t trust me with it.
That was almost worse than seeing it to begin with.
‘Emma…’ I began, stomach churning with guilt. ‘I’m sorry—’
‘It’s fine,’ she cut me off, but her lip was quivering. ‘Look, I need to restock the embroidery floss, so I’ll get on that.’
She vanished to the other side of the shop and I wrapped my arms around myself, feeling awful.
She was obviously desperate to get away from me so she wouldn’t have to pretend not to be upset.
Nothing needed restocking. The loaded shelves were hung with discount signs as it was.
We’d barely opened for the day and had refilled the shelves yesterday to get ready for an influx of sale customers who were probably never coming.
She was avoiding me. No wonder, really, after I’d snapped at her for just being worried about me.
Snapped and personally insulted her in the same breath.
Ever since we’d met, I’d known how important her spirituality was to her.
Although I didn’t really believe in all that stuff, I’d always respected the fact that she did.
We could make fun of each other about a lot of things, but I left that alone.
Until today, when I’d felt backed into a corner and under pressure.
The worst time to suddenly go right for her biggest insecurity.
To my shame, I hid away in the back for a while, afraid to come out and face her.
I was thinking about how much time she’d given me since I broke up with Richard.
How she’d come to the flat with booze and snacks, covered for me at the shop, sent him away just because I asked.
I’d just thrown all that back in her face.
I’d taken Richard back and now she had to be wondering where she stood after basically talking shit about him with me for weeks now.
Obviously, she had a right to be worried.
She’d been involved in the whole mess from the start.
The thing was I didn’t really know what to say to her. I’d never taken someone back after a break-up before, let alone one as fraught as the one I’d had with Richard. I’d never even imagined I would, not until Mum told me all about what happened with Dad. That had really shifted my perspective.
The rest of the day was tense and stressful.
I kept wanting to apologise but the words just wouldn’t come.
I’d manage to say her name and then end up offering her a cup of tea or something so banal it made me want to curl up and die.
The only respites from the awkwardness came when a customer wandered in or when we took our lunch breaks.
Aside from that, we worked in a tense silence punctuated by overly polite offers of tea or comments on the work that needed doing.
The arrival of some bills did not improve things.
Our first electricity bill had come in and was much higher than I’d been expecting.
The cost of keeping all the yarn free of damp by having the heating on in the badly insulated shop was astronomical.
I could have cried when I saw the amount. I needed to do something.
To escape the tension for a while, I dived into everything I’d been too preoccupied by the break-up to do, namely, actually trying to save my business.
Looking at the optimistically misnamed ‘profit’ spreadsheet, I could see in black and red that we were spiralling towards closure.
If I didn’t do something drastic, we’d be closing down before the rent was due, because we wouldn’t be able to afford insurance or to keep the lights on.
So I put a post on the local Facebook group, offering ‘to-go crochet kits’ with instructions and materials.
Then I widened that to the local pages for the next five villages and two towns.
I typed up instructions and tried my best to make them look cutesy, then dug the supply of brown paper carrier bags out of the storage cupboard and lined them up as if I was making packed lunches for fifty people in the break room.
A ball of yarn, a basic five-millimetre hook, snippers, and a blanket needle taped to a business card. I only hoped people came to buy one.
Towards the end of the day, I got an email from Emma asking for annual leave for the next three days, finishing out the week.
I felt blindsided and upset but what else could I do but approve it?
I wasn’t going to force Emma to be around me.
God, what were we going to do about her coven coming in for a craft session?
That was going to be fraught, if it was even still happening now.
By closing time, I was miserable and still desperately wanted to apologise for my comment.
But as soon as I started closing up, Emma squeaked out an excuse about trying to get home early for a delivery and left.
I closed up by myself, unable to blame her for making her escape so quickly.
Maybe tomorrow I could message her to say sorry and then, when she returned to work after her time off, I could bring her in some breakfast and apologise properly.