Chapter Forty-Six

It’s three in the afternoon by the time Piper and Ethan pull up to the inn. She’s concerned about her mother. There’s no question:

Maggie ran back to New Hope to escape into knitting instead of dealing with their problems. She kinda gets it; they’ve never

gone nearly a week without talking. If Piper’s being completely honest with herself, she’d been trying to escape by running

off to elope instead of having a calm, rational conversation. She’s grateful Ethan encouraged her to take a step back in the

moment. It was that kind of thoughtfulness and care that had made him cautious about proposing, something Piper hadn’t appreciated

fully until now, with hindsight.

“So, I’ll go find a coffee place in town,” he says, the car idling in front of the inn. “Just text me when you’re ready for

me to pick you up.”

It was what they’d discussed during the car ride over. But now that they’ve arrived, it doesn’t feel right.

“Come inside with me to say hi. Then I’ll ask my mother to sit somewhere private to talk.”

“Are you sure?”

She nods. “We’re engaged. We’re a . . . package deal. This is the right way to handle it.”

They pull around to far side of the building, where the parking lot is busy.

“Popular place,” Ethan says.

They hold hands, walking past the spot on the front patio where they’d reunited less than a week ago. Her stomach rumbles,

reminding her she forgot to stop for lunch.

Inside, she’s greeted by the familiar sweet and spicy aroma of the lobby, as if the Sip & Stitch is still going on just as

she left it. But the room is quiet except for a staffer she doesn’t recognize behind the front desk. When Cole last messaged

her, he said there was a knitter’s group in the Purl. But when she and Ethan check the room, it’s empty except for tables

covered with discarded cups and mugs, and few left-behind balls of yarn, and scraps of torn labels and tags littering the

ground. No Maggie.

“I’m going to have to call her. Let her know we’re here.”

Piper hadn’t given a ton of thought to showing up unannounced. She’s not even sure why she felt so compelled to just go. Maybe she was a little afraid Maggie would have told her not to come. No doubt she’s hurt by the way Piper handled things.

Her mother had begged forgiveness for the dishonesty and interference in her relationship. Now it’s Piper’s turn to say she’s

sorry for shutting her out. They both have to do better.

“Hey,” Ethan says, seeing the tension in her face. “It’s going to be okay. You said there’s a restaurant on-site? Let’s go

get something to eat while we wait for her. You can call her from there.”

“Good idea.” She takes one more look around the room, then walks closer to the window, gazing out at the river. “It feels

good to be back here. I kinda fell in love with it and didn’t get a chance to say a proper goodbye.”

He moves to stand next to her, and puts an arm around her shoulders, sharing the view. “It’s beautiful,” he says, then, “You know what I think?”

“What?” she asks, wondering if he’s thinking what she’s thinking.

“It’s a perfect place for a wedding.”

After the yarn swap ends, Maggie and Belinda keep the party going with a table for six at the tavern, where Max, Elaine, Cole,

Kalli, and Aidan are toasting with the champagne Elaine ordered.

The only thing missing is Piper. But if Maggie’s learned anything the past week, it’s that she can’t let missing Piper spoil

the moment. She read somewhere once about “removing yourself from a table that no longer serves you.” But she’d never thought

about finding herself at a table that feels so much like a new beginning. Sitting in between Belinda and Elaine, across from

Aidan, it’s like a magical convergence of her past, her present and her future. And she wouldn’t have experienced it if she

hadn’t taken the chance to rethink her life, to look at it from a different angle. Now she knows happiness will come as a

result of the deliberate choices she makes in her own life, not vicariously through Piper. And so, in keeping with that spirit,

she reminds herself that the moment is complete even without Piper. And it really is.

But a part of her—somewhere deep and subconscious and delusional—must not fully accept that. Because she thinks she hears

Aidan say, “Hey, Piper!”

Maggie whips around and finds Piper. Piper and Ethan.

“What are you doing here?” she says, jumping up.

“I wanted to see you. Cole told me you’re here.”

It’s her first time seeing her daughter as a married woman. She swallows a lump in her throat.

“I hope you got my message . . . congratulating you.”

“I didn’t go through with it, Mom. We’re not married yet.”

Elaine stands up. “Maggie, you didn’t tell me she’s getting married.”

“Aunt Elaine, what are you doing here?” Piper says.

“Opening a knit shop with your mother. Pretty fabulous, right?”

Piper turns to Maggie. “Um, can we talk outside for a minute?”

That’s probably a good idea. They excuse themselves, Maggie offering Ethan her seat at the table.

Outside, the air is chillier than it had been just a few hours earlier. Across the river, the trees of Lambertville are a

blur of brown and gold. On the surface of the water, fallen leaves create a patchwork of moving color. They both walk to the

wooden balustrade, looking out and not at each other. Piper breaks the silence.

“Wow. Don’t I feel like an idiot for not talking to you sooner.” She turns to her. “Anything else I missed?”

“Let’s see,” Maggie says, picking up on the lightness of Piper’s tone. “I’m moving to New Hope, going into business with Elaine

and opening a knit shop. Hopefully in the spot on that side street where you almost stole the Doc Martens. So yeah, I think

that covers it.”

Piper crosses her arms with a smile. “I think you’re leaving something out. That table in there is pretty full. With some

people who have nothing to do with a knit shop.”

She understands what she’s getting at: Aidan. She’s not leaving him out, she’s just not sure she wants to talk about him yet.

It’s all so new and unexpected. But she has a feeling there will be plenty of time to talk to Piper about him.

“You didn’t come all the way back here to ask me about Aidan,” she says.

“No. You’re right. I didn’t. I came down here because I owe you an apology. I shouldn’t have left here angry without talking to you. And I should have given you a chance when you came to the apartment.”

Maggie feels choked up. In all the time she’d imagined this moment over the past stressful week, she never once thought Piper

would be apologizing. The most she hoped for was the chance to get her own forgiveness.

She reaches out and hugs Piper, holding her close. After a few seconds, Piper pulls back.

“And I never thanked you for the retreat. For our mother-daughter weekend. It was pretty great.”

Maggie agrees. But . . .

“I kinda wish it had ended differently,” she says.

Piper smiles. “I’m pretty sure we’ll get a do-over soon.”

“Really?” Maggie isn’t following her, and figures it’s just a throwaway comment, something to placate her in the moment. But

Piper looks bemused—like it’s a real idea. One she’s excited about.

And then it clicks. “Wait, do you mean . . .”

“That’s right,” Piper says. “Bachelorette party weekend, here we come.”

The glass door slides open behind them. It’s Belinda, concerned about the cold. “Let me turn these heat lamps on for you?”

Maggie puts her arm around Piper. “Don’t think we need them. We’re all good here, right?”

“Never better,” Piper says. And with one last look at the changing light falling across the water, they walk back inside.

*****

If ads affect your reading experience, click here to remove ads on this page.