“You know what?” Jordan murmured. “I’m much happier with what we’re doing now.”
They hugged and Alix closed her eyes. In a little more than two weeks she would be Jordan Turner’s bride. June second couldn’t come fast enough.
CHAPTER 31
“Knitting a prayer shawl is ‘putting legs to your prayers.’ It is an outward reminder that someone cares.”
Cheryl Gunnells, Executive Director of Publications, Leisure Arts, Inc.
Lydia Goetz
Apparently, Alix hadn’t guessed that this last get-together of the shawl-knitting class was a surprise wedding shower for her. Once the word was out, I was delighted by how many people wanted to be part of it.
The first person to contact me was Carol Girard. She still had trouble believing she was actually pregnant. Every time we talked about it, Carol started to giggle. A pregnancy was never supposed to happen for her and Doug.
I told her I’d once read a scientific report that stated there was no logical reason a bumblebee should fly. The aerodynamics were all wrong, but apparently someone forgot to tell the bumblebee.
Carol’s pregnancy did give me pause. I wondered if such a miracle would be possible for me. Unfortunately, chemotherapy and radiation play havoc with the reproductive system.
A part of me longed for a child, an infant to hold and nurture and love. I’d assumed that in time this resurgence of baby hunger would go away, but it hadn’t yet. I lay awake at night thinking about a baby. Brad and I continued to discuss adoption, but we’d decided to think it over for a few months. There was no need to make a decision yet.
Back to Alix’s party…Bethanne Hamlin was supplying the decorations. Her party business had become a notable success, and there was even talk of franchising the company. Whenever I thought back to the first time I met her, I was astonished that this was the same woman. In those days, Bethanne had lacked the initiative to do something as simple as sign up for a knitting class; her daughter Annie was the one who’d phoned. To be fair, Bethanne was still staggering from the pain and shock of her divorce, and her self-esteem was in ashes.
Well, talk about rising from the ashes! The woman who was convinced she had no skills, no talents and no prospects, now headed a huge party business. The last I heard, she had thirty employees. Thirty!
Annie was in her first year of college and planned on getting a business degree so she could join her mother. Two years ago who would’ve believed something like this could happen?
Courtney, who’d also been in my sock-knitting class, mailed a gift for Alix when Annie Hamlin told her about the surprise shower. Courtney was away at the University of Illinois at Chicago; she hoped to eventually become a nutritionist. Bethanne’s son, Andrew, and Courtney were still in touch, too, which pleased me. I knew they’d maintained their long-distance relationship, because Courtney had recently e-mailed me about shipping her some yarn. She was knitting Andrew a sweater for his birthday in his school colors. Alix would love knowing that Courtney hadn’t forgotten her.
Naturally, Jacqueline and Tammie Lee planned to attend, even though they’d already been part of another shower for Alix at the country club. They were bringing all kinds of treats for the party, everything from small quiches to a selection of cheeses. Tammie Lee told me she was also preparing a southern delicacy—pickled hardboiled eggs. Jacqueline said I should count my blessings that Tammie Lee hadn’t decided to cart in a Crock-Pot full of boiled peanuts.
It warmed my heart to see the two of them getting along so well.
Margaret would be here, too. I’d hoped Julia and Hailey could come, but unfortunately, they both had after-school events. Margaret hadn’t said much about Julia lately. When I asked, she changed the subject, evaded the issue or glared defiantly. Clearly, this wasn’t something she wanted to discuss, especially now that Danny Chesterfield had been released. My sister’s anger and her frustration with the police had returned tenfold.
I tried not to worry about Julia or Margaret, but it was hard. Hailey and I talked every once in a while, and I got more news from her than I did from my own sister, whom I saw five days a week.
The door opened and Bethanne Hamlin breezed into the store, hauling a huge box. Her hair was shorter than I remembered, and her sleeveless summer dress revealed a golden tan. I could tell she felt embarrassed when I told her how gorgeous she looked, but it was the truth.
“Thanks for doing all this,” I said and would’ve hugged her if not for the large carton she held.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Bethanne set the box on the table and started to unpack. She had ties for the back of each chair, which resembled wedding veils, and silk flower bouquets that she attached to the veils, each one in a pastel shade. She draped the table with a decorated cloth and then brought out a silver tray with minisandwiches and sugar cookies shaped like champagne glasses.
Even before she’d finished, Jacqueline and Tammie Lee came in with their bounty, followed by Elise and Maverick Beaumont. I immediately pulled out a chair for Maverick, who seemed thinner than the last time I’d seen him. His complexion was pale, too, and he seemed weak and tired. He was losing his battle with cancer. No one needed to tell me that; I could see it for myself.
Elise stayed close to his side, as she had for the past two years. They were devoted to each other. Watching them together, so tender and loving, brought tears to my eyes. I hoped Brad and I would be like them in our old age.
Elise used to be an embittered woman who resented her ex-husband, Maverick, for his many supposed transgressions, including the fact that he was a professional gambler. Her life had become more and more rigid in her retirement, not less, as you might expect. But reconciling with Maverick had completely changed her.
In addition to being my friend, Elise was one of my very best customers. When it came to knitting, there wasn’t any project Elise couldn’t tackle. The most complicated patterns didn’t daunt her.
As the time neared for Alix’s arrival, everyone dispersed.
“I see her,” I called from where I stood by the window. I watched Alix leave the French Café, carrying a basket of what I suspected were warm croissants. “Hide, everyone,” I instructed, and all my friends scrambled. I hurried over to the counter.