Page 51 of The Side Road
He smiled. Wanting to keep her on the phone, he asked her what she was doing.
‘Right now, I’m eating leftover pasta. After that, I’ll probably work on a pattern. Pete the Pig is next in line – he needs some attention.’
‘Have you always been a knitter? I have this vision of youat five, knitting.’ He picked up his wine and once again settled on the lounge.
‘I started in high school. It was a godsend. It kept me focused and, in the moment, if you know what I mean. I used to get very anxious, and having something to do with my hands settled my nerves.’
He wanted to ask why she was anxious, but decided it might be too personal, or worse, too painful. Instead, he asked, ‘Where did you grow up?’
‘North Sydney. I went to boarding school in Lavender Bay.’
He hesitated. Why would she go to boarding school if her family lived in North Sydney? It was a fashionable suburb. Wide, tree-lined streets with impressive new homes dotted amongst older sandstone buildings. One of the wealthiest suburbs in the city. Lavender Bay was equally impressive, but they were in the same locality.
‘Aren’t they right next to each other?’ he asked.
‘Yes. I was the surprise baby no one expected. You see, my parents have this…this great love for each other. It’s special…their relationship. They don’t need anyone else.’
Her voice had risen. He thought he should probably change the subject. ‘Your store, how did that start?’
She told him the story. It began as a hobby and an Etsy account. Soon she was selling crocheted cactus plants to people living in Texas. Shipping knitted cuckoo clocks to Germany. Stuffing club-inspired soccer balls into post packs and sending them to the UK. Loch Ness monsters were posted to Scotland. Last Christmas, she had shipped five hundred boxes of knitted decorations around the globe.
‘You turned a hobby into a business.’
‘An unsuccessful business. When I did the sums, I realisedthat hand-knitting my way to a reliable car, food on the table, and snacks for Snood was going to take me about thirty-five hours a day, eight days a week. It was not possible.’
‘What did you do?’
‘Hashtag-knit. And hashtag-yarn, hashtag-handmade, and about a dozen other hashtags. A few viral videos on social media were a stroke of luck. I created an online brand for beginners. I started with simple how-to-knit products, made patterns and offered them for free. I created cute collections of animals, iconic buildings, and dogs. The rest, as they say, is a craft store at the end of town.’
‘That’s so impressive.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Why did you choose Eagle Nest? Of all the country towns in New South Wales, why this one?’
‘Initially, it was because of my friend, Holly. Her husband’s family owns a winery nearby. She brought me out here and I fell in love with the area. A few years earlier, Leo had moved in with Blanche. They offered me their spare bedroom.’ She hesitated. ‘I like to think the universe had something to do with it. Do you know that feeling? When there’s no resistance to the path ahead?’
‘I do.’
‘It felt right coming here.’ She yawned. ‘You know what I was thinking about today? How disappointed with life Elsie must have been. I didn’t realise she had regrets, but it makes sense. From what I can tell, everyone in town thought she was just a grumpy old woman. Do you think all old people have regrets?’
‘Hard to say, but my guess is no. Most people make peace with life and death.’
‘Oliver?’ Her voice was as soft as cloth.
‘Yes, Mia.’ He loved saying her name.
‘Do you think the truth is more highly prized by women?’
‘No, I don’t.’
She sighed. This was followed by another yawn.
‘Sorry, I’m keeping you up. You probably have work tomorrow.’
‘Monday is my day off.’
He hesitated. ‘Have lunch with me?’ It was worth a shot. She might say no, but it felt like they were getting closer.
