Page 63 of The Side Road
While Mia madethe coffee and toast in her kitchen, Oliver distracted himself, and once again, he studied the plots on her paper patterns.
When she handed him a cup, her eyes smiled into his. A world of meaning and secret pleasures bound them together.
‘Snooping?’ she asked. After bringing her cup to her lips, she sipped her coffee.
‘Yes. I’ve worked it out.’ He pointed to a black dot on the pattern. ‘This is pearl.’ He moved his finger to a blank space. ‘And this is knit.’
‘Yes, that’s correct.’
‘Y O means yarn over. C O is cast off. K2 T O G means knit two together?’ He glanced at her for confirmation.
She nodded.
‘What’s C 6 F?’
‘It means move the next three stitches onto a cable needle. Hold this in front. Then, knit three more stitches, and finally, knit the three from the cable needle.’
‘Fuck me.’
She pointed to the letters S L S T. ‘You’ll get this one.’
‘Maybe, slip stitch.’
When the toaster pinged. Mia returned to the kitchen. She spread butter and apricot jam on the sourdough. They sat together on the window seat, sharing the toast, which was perfectly cooked. Mia, once again wearing her halter neck dress with a loose cardigan slipping off her shoulders, tucked one leg underneath, and rested her knee on his thigh.
For the first time in a long time, Oliver felt completely at home. Relaxed and content, he could happily sit next to her and do nothing for several hours. But his mind shifted through the consequences of what sex with Mia meant. A deeper, emotional connection, which he thought must be obvious to her, too. He admired the determination that fuelled her passion. Pride also swelled within him. As the morning light scattered across the floor of the charming sitting room, he realised she trusted him. When he ran his hand over her bare leg, she rewarded him with a coy smile.
Nearby, Snood sat on the floor. His pleading stare told Oliver that the dog was still starving.
‘It’s my fault,’ Mia said. ‘He expects the crusts. They’re his favourite.’
Oliver didn’t think crusts were the dog’s favourite. Snood was a universal lover of all human food, but he offered his crusts.
‘Just watch your hand,’ Mia warned. The dog had a habit of inhaling his food; fingers were a casualty.
After Mia finished her toast, she cleared her throat. ‘So, I’ve been thinking about you and me, and I was wondering if you’d be interested in doing this again in a part-time capacity.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘What does part-time mean?’
She brushed the hair out of her eyes. ‘I’m not explainingmyself very well. I’d like to do this again. On Sundays and Mondays.’
He hesitated. ‘You want a fuck-buddy – two days a week?’
‘No!’ Abruptly, she uncurled her leg. Standing, she walked across the room to the table. With her back to him, she said, ‘Do we have to call it that?’
‘Isn’t that what you’re asking?’
She paused. ‘Can’t we call it friends with benefits?’ She began collecting the graph paper patterns that were scattered over the table.
‘Are we going to be friends?’ Oliver joined her at the table. Following her lead, he helped her with the pages. Passing them to her, she slipped them into plastic folders.
‘Of course. Why wouldn’t we be friends?’
He studied her face. ‘You’re sure this is what you want?’
‘Yes. I don’t understand why you’re hesitating.’
‘Because we can do better.’
