Page 9 of It Started With a Scarf

"No. Was it the scarf?" he asked.

"What do you mean?"

"That made your mom and grandma fight?"

"Yes, it was. They had a strained relationship before that. I didn't see her much as a kid, but that really wrecked things between them."

"I’m sorry."

"No, I didn't mean to… it's fine. She and I talk all the time now—every week. She calls me on Monday to check on me. She asks me if I went to church."

"Do you go?"

"Yeah, not necessarily on Sunday, but yes. There's a church between here and my house, and I stop there at least once a week."

"That's great," he said.

She grinned. "You think?"

"Yes, I do."

"Which part? Talking to my grandma or going to church?"

He made a face at her. "What sort of man would I be if I said either of those things weren't great?"

"Yeah I guess you're right," she said with a casual smile.

She was wearing lip gloss, and Dominic caught himself staring at her mouth. He was clearly attracted to this woman. He blinked and focused on other things—the table and a person walking by. He took a deep breath. He had to talk to her while he had her here.

"And have all your dreams come true about moving to Chicago? Do you like the weather? Do you like wearing your scarf?"

She beamed at the questions. "Yes and yes," she said. "I love this thing, and I get to wear it all the time. I had it in a drawer for over a decade, and I imagined how luxurious it would be once I got to wear it regularly. I've lived here for only ten months, and Chicago's so cold that I've been able to wear it so much!"

"So, all of your dreams are coming true?" He asked, grinning at her.

"I guess you could say that. I like living in Chicago, and I get asked about it all the time. It's a great conversation piece."

"What do people say when you tell them who knitted it?"

"I don't tell everyone that much of the story. Most of the time, people complement it, and I thank them. If there's a secondary comment, they'll say how bright it is, and I say it's a gift from my grandma, and that's that. I've certainly never told anyone it caused a family rift." She said that lightheartedly with a laugh, and it was completely irresistible.

She took a sip of her drink. He watched her do it. Her cheeks were blushing and so was her chest and neck. Her skin was pink in spots, and she was delicate and vulnerable but yet still so confident and nonchalant. Dominic was spellbound.

"My family's fine now, actually—especially since I moved up here. They haven't been up here or anything, but they're always happy to hear from me, and supportive. I'm close to my sister. She's still in Texas, but we text all the time."

"What about the lady you're living with? Joan. Does she help you out?"

"She does, and I help her, too. She's got kids who live in town and stop by. They're older with families. They think I'm trying to weasel in on their inheritance, but otherwise, they're nice."

"Are you?"

"No," she said, smiling. "I don't think she has anything, anyway. She has a store, and I think it's seen better days." She took another sip of her drink. "But no, I'm saying too much. Joan's great, and her family's okay. It's all good. I like Chicago in general. I'm glad I came here. What about you? Do you ride the bus, too?"

"Do I ride the… no, I, I…" She was smiling, and he was distracted. "I have a truck that I drive. And a car."

"Oh, wow. Do you have a family?"

"Yeah, a brother and a sister."

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