Chapter 12 – Hannah
Chapter Twelve
HANNAH
H unched over in front of Knit Happens’s counter, I type away. It’s been another busy week, but at least I’m finally working on my funding application.
Between running the shop, organizing a class I’ve been offered to teach at the mainland elementary school, and pacing myself, it’s been hard to create time to fill out the documents and write my essay, and it’s nice to finally be making some progress.
And not just when it comes to my business.
The few days since Michael took me to the cozy fishing shack, I’ve been floating around on cloud nine. We haven’t been able to spend any significant time together since, but he’s popped into the shop to say hello a couple times and we’ve been texting constantly.
That night at the fishing shack felt like the start of a new chapter in my life. One where I can not only be myself, but where I’m supported in it. And that kiss…
It still makes me weak in the knees to think about it.
Yet, even though everything is going well, the fear is still there. It’s not unfounded either. At any moment, a flare could come along and ruin all my progress in life. Though I can get ahead of most of them by pacing myself, they do occasionally pop up out of the blue without any warning.
It’s a flare like those that could cause me to shut down the shop for days and lose money and customers. A flare that could alienate Michael when he sees just how bad things can get with me.
Yes, he cares. Yes, he is doing his best to be supportive and understanding. But that doesn’t change the fact that you need to see someone at their worst before you get an idea of who they really are. And my worst is not pretty.
It’s a burden. The kind that I would never ask anyone to carry with me.
My phone comes to life with a call from my aunt, and I snatch it up. “Hey, Carol.”
“Hey, sweetie. I have a surprise.”
“You do? What?”
“I’m coming to visit you!”
I try not to drop the phone. “You…uh… What do you mean? When?”
“I have a flight booked for tomorrow morning. Now, I know what you’re going to say, and I promise I won’t be a burden on you?—”
“No, I don’t think that. It’s just?—”
“I’m coming to help, Hannah. Your plate is full. That last flare sounded like it was really bad, and I know you were downplaying it for my benefit.”
That shuts me up, and I pull my lips tight. Yes, I did downplay it. But only because I don’t want her to worry herself sick about me when she’s on the other side of the country and there’s nothing she can do.
“I’m coming to help,” she repeats. “Not to be a guest or to expect you to entertain me. I can help at the shop. What do you think of that?”
Her help would be amazing. Of course I need it.
But Carol can be…a lot when it comes to her concern for me. Maybe because she’s retired now and doesn’t have a lot to do, or maybe losing her sister so young has made her afraid the same thing will happen with me.
I don’t know, but I do know that I could use her help, and I’m too proud to ask for it. “That would be nice. Thank you. I don’t want you to wear yourself out here, though.”
“I could never do that. You know me. I have more energy than I know what to do with.”
I chuckle. Don’t I know it.
“I’ll send you my flight info,” she says. “Don’t worry about picking me up from the airport. I’ll get myself to Pine Island.”
“You sure?”
“One hundred percent. I’ll see you soon.”
“See you soon. Love you.”
She sends a kissing sound and hangs up. Already, a bit of weight lifts off my shoulders. My aunt’s help around the shop will be invaluable, but I’ll need to be careful not to take advantage of it. While she tends to give endlessly, it doesn’t feel right always accepting her help. I would hate to be the reason that she gets burned out.
The door opens, and I look up from my laptop. Flick walks in carrying a basketful of new yarns. “Hey,” she says.
“Hi.” I close my computer. Is it really time for the crafting group to start? Where did the afternoon go?
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I force myself to smile.
“Right.” She puts her basket down and shrugs out of her coat. “I know you well enough. Don’t tell me you weren’t just sitting here worrying yourself half to death over something.”
Sighing, I get up and start putting down the big cushions Flick and I picked up the other day, which are way more comfortable than the folding chairs I was using.
“Things are good. My aunt is coming to visit. She’s going to help around the shop.”
“Oh, really? That’s awesome! How long is she staying for?”
I laugh. “Probably until I force her to leave.”
My laughter dies down, and I remember just how fortunate I am. Not everyone has someone like Carol in their lives, and considering the fact that I started out as the kid of a single mom then became an orphan, I’m pretty damn lucky to have ended up with such an amazing woman raising me.
“So, things are good,” Flick slowly says, and I know there’s more coming. “But you’re still off. I can see it. What’s really up?”
I sigh. “It sucks feeling like I’m always waiting for the next flare, you know? Everything is going well in life, but I’m still on edge.”
She nods. “I know what you mean.” She gets comfortable on a bright-pink cushion with gold tassels. “Do you want to talk to the group about it tonight? If anyone can understand, it’ll be people brought together through chronic pain.”
“Yeah,” I mumble, though I don’t feel certain.
Even though the whole group has so much in common, it’s still easier for me to stay quiet. To keep out of the way and not disturb anyone with my fibro problems. It’s almost become a survival mechanism at this point—stay quiet and don’t rock the boat.
I don’t have long to dwell on it, though, because Maya and Alexis arrive, and then a few minutes later, a woman in her early thirties, who introduces herself as Devin and shares that she is a yoga teacher and physiotherapist who has chronic fatigue syndrome.
Having a new person join our ranks buoys my spirit, making me feel like I’ve done something really special by starting this group, so when Flick raises her eyebrows at me, silently reminding me to share what we were talking about earlier, I don’t feel as much resistance.
“Does anyone ever worry—or…more like obsess…over when their next flare will happen?” I casually ask.
The other four look up from the totes they’re crocheting, and everyone starts talking at once.
“All the time,” Alexis says.
“I didn’t even know if I could come tonight.” Devin sighs and puts down her crochet hooks. “I couldn’t make the first meeting because I couldn’t get off the couch.”
Maya shakes her head. “It’s awful making plans and not knowing if you’ll actually be able to honor them or not.”
“Right?” Flick says. “Then there’s the whole work and career thing. How are we supposed to move ahead in the world when we don’t know when we’ll next be knocked on our butts?”
“It’s hard even when you’re a freelancer.” Alexis reclines on a stack of cushions, her deft fingers making quick progress on her tote. “I still don’t know how much work to schedule for myself week to week. If I were to schedule in anticipation of a flare every week, I wouldn’t be able to make enough to pay my bills. So, I end up just having to apologize to clients and turn things in late. I hate it.”
“Every time I schedule a yoga workshop,” Devin says, eyes wide, “I nearly have a panic attack. What if I have a flare that day, and I have to cancel on everyone? Some people have driven hours to some of my workshops.”
Even though everything they’re saying is depressing as hell, it’s also comforting. This life might be uncertain, but at least I have people around who get it.
“Thank you, you guys,” I murmur. “I needed to hear this.”
“You’re not alone.” Flick nudges me with her shoulder.
“Ooh, speaking of not alone…” Alexis’s eyes sparkle. “I heard that you and Michael had some alone time at the McGraw fishing shack.”
I can only laugh and bury my face in my hands. Is nothing private on this island?
“So, how did it go?” Alexis asks.
“It was amazing.” My face warms as I share how Michael dressed up the shack to make it comfortable for me. When I get to the part about the kiss, the shop nearly explodes from the force of the girls’ whoops and cheers.
“How was it?” Maya asks.
“Probably perfect,” Alexis answers.
“He’s the fire chief, right?” Devin’s eyes widen. “Oh wow. He’s cute. Nice going, Hannah.”
“Okay, okay.” I bite my smile, my face still hot as I desperately look for a new subject. “Flick brought in some new yarns to test out.”
“Hey, the firehouse’s annual fundraiser is coming up,” Maya says. “Would anyone like to make things we can donate for the raffle? I know I’m not great yet, but my scarf is coming along pretty well.”
Everyone chimes in with agreement, and even though it’s not a complete topic change—since Michael is still a part of the conversation—I go with it.
“I have some hats I can donate.” Putting my needles down, I go to the box behind the counter that I keep personal projects in.
“Wonderful.” Maya beams. “And you can go to the fire station to register our contribution, right?”
I freeze, all eyes on me. The girls are setting me up, of course—and they love it. Even Devin, who is new to the group, is biting back a smile.
“Sure.” I gulp. “I’ll go.”
Flick checks her phone. “You should go now, before it gets dark.”
Alexis giggles. “Yes, go now, so we can have a full report when you come back.”
“N-now?” My stammer, so obvious, couldn’t be more embarrassing.
“He’s there,” Devin supplies. “I saw him in the window when I walked by.”
I lick my dry lips. Michael won’t be the only person there. The place will be filled with firefighters I don’t know. What if… But maybe… I really should?—
“I, uh…”
The girls push me to the door. “Say hi for us,” Flick says.
My own shop door slams closed behind me, and I’m left alone on the front stoop.
“Damn it,” I mutter.