Page 36 of Darn Knit All

“I think I’m done.”

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding, feeling a little wobbly as I stepped back.

“You did great.” The words felt far too benign when compared to the aching tension he’d managed to build. I turned away, clearing my throat. “There are snacks on the coffee table.”

He perked up. “What kind of snacks?”

“Does it matter?” I asked lightly, striving to navigate us back to familiar waters. “We both know you’ll eat anything.”

He chuckled, following me across to the low table. “True. But I’m always wary after you fed me those wasabi peas.”

I groaned, settling into aseizaposition beside the low table. “I get you to try one new thing and you hold that over me for years.”

He made a face as he sat cross-legged on the other side of the table. “I don’t think I’ve cried that much since Astipia lost to Spain in the Football World Cup.”

I snorted, lifting the small teapot from the tray. “You cried that much in the kids’ movie we watched the other week.”

“Hey! So did you!”

I poured us some green tea. “Ignoring our mutual angst over animated characters, we should talk about what happens tomorrow.”

“Before we do that.” He leaned over, stretching his long body until he could hook a finger into the strap of his bag. Dragging it across the floor, he rummaged inside until he could pull a small gift bag free.

“This is for you,” he said, placing it on the table.

I finished pouring and handed him his cup. “What is it?”

“A present.”

I inclined my head toward the coffee table. “You already brought me grapes.”

Theo had once asked why Ren and I brought gifts when we came to his house. I’d explained that gift-giving is a tradition in Japanese culture, and that gifts are often used to express gratitude or care.

Once I’d explained the significance, Theo had then adopted the custom, surprising me each time he came over with small gifts like fruit, cookies or tea.

The practice oftemiyage,had been drilled into my siblings and I from a young age. Myobaachanhad lived with us for most of my younger years until we’d moved to the Cove. She’d moved to Astipia as a young bride with myojiisan.

She’d spoken only rudimental English at the time and had struggled to find work to sustain her. It was through the diaspora community that she’d met other skilled seamstresses, becoming good friends with many of the women. Together, they’d established a small store for mending, tailoring and the occasional design, until she’d retired many years ago. She’d been my first teacher and had encouraged my love of design.

Theo lifted the mug in both of his hands, blowing gently on the hot liquid, sending steam swirling gently across his face. “This is different.” He nodded at the gift bag. “Open it.”

I reached for the bag, feeling slightly self-conscious as I rifled through the gift.

“I know you’re nervous about this,” Theo explained as I withdrew a fluffy brown unicorn. “I thought this might help.”

The stuffed toy stared up at me with gentle brown eyes. Urma the unicorn has been my favorite adults’ cartoon for years—the snarky, foulmouthed equine always made me laugh.

“Thank you.”

Theo reached for a cookie with a shrug. “There’s more.”

I smoothed the soft fur of the unicorn and put it aside, reaching in to withdraw a small candle. The label branded it as being created by my friend Flo, who owned “Common Scents.” She made everything from candles to perfumes to oils, each tailored to the individual’s preference.

Gently pulling the lid off, I drew in a deep breath, inhaling the scent of salt and wind.

“I had Flo design it for you,” Theo explained around a mouthful of sweets. “To remind you of home if you get homesick when we’re away.”

A warm, aching feeling radiated from my chest. “This is very thoughtful. You shouldn’t have.”

---