Page 20 of We Can Forever

I raise my voice so she can hear me. “I don’t know if it’s destiny, but it is nice. What do you know about him?”

“Really, not much,” she calls out. “That he grew up here, left for years, came back within the last year.”

“Does Katie’s mom live around here?”

“I don’t know. I doubt it. Katie wasn’t born here.”

I frown. Her mom isn’t here? That’s interesting, but not strange, I guess. Maybe her mom’s job keeps her in Seattle, and Katie splits the year between her parents.

Flick pops her head into the living room. “Do you want honey?”

“What kind of tea is it?”

She grins. “It’s my new marijuana tea infusion.”

I gasp. “Yes, please. I want a card! I love that you were able to get that.”

“What about your new doctor?” she calls out as she returns to her busywork. “Are you going to ask her for one?”

“She said she can get me one. I just have to wait until our next appointment.”

She enters the living room with a tray laden with a teapot, two mugs, and a little honey bear. Setting it on the coffee table, she pours us each a generous amount. The woody smell fills the room, and I take a slow, careful first sip. A rich, grounding flavor slides across my tongue, and I’m in a better mood just tasting it.

I’m fortunate to have found my newest doctor, though it wasn’t luck that brought me to her. After the last two doctors I tried out in Maine—the first who didn’t believe fibromyalgia is real and the second who would only give me NSAIDs for my pain, despite them wrecking my stomach—I finally heard about this third one from a Knit Happens customer.

So far, it’s been good. Being validated is enough to bring me to tears, and the medical marijuana card she’s getting me will be a godsend.

“I’m so glad you found her.” Flick settles cross-legged on the couch. “She sounds amazing.”

“Anyone is better than Doctor What’s-His-Face.”

She snorts. “For sure.”

It was at Doctor What’s-His-Face’s office that Flick and I met. The man turned out to be a jerk, but by the time I left the waiting room, I had Flick’s number, and the rest is history.

If nothing else, I suspect I was meant to come to Pine Island to meet Flick. I’ve never had someone get me the way she does, and not just when it comes to a love of all things yarn and what it means to live with chronic pain. She understands my ambition, my need to never settle for a life of struggle, to always find ways to make every day better.

Plus, she’s the one who encouraged me to start the Chronic Pain Crafters group. If it weren’t for her, we would never have connected with Maya and Alexis, and I wouldn’t be teaching at the elementary school.

“To you.” I raise my mug.

Her eyebrows rise. “Why me?”

“Because you’re the best friend anyone could have.”

“Aw, stop.” She pokes my knee. “That’s not possible, because you’re the best friend anyone could have.”

I chuckle into my tea. “How about we tie for the title?”

“I like that.” She winks. “Hey, so is there anything in particular you want me to look for at the yarn conference?”

“Yes!” I add more honey to my tea. “What’s most important is finding out what the expected trends are for next year.”

“Got it.” She nods, all business.

“Thank you for going for me.” I sigh. “If I had someone to watch the store?—”

“Maybe next year you will, and then we both can go.”

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