Page 36 of The Weekend Crashers
Belinda motions toward a dozen Harney & Sons tea tins lined up on the counter. “Take your pick,” she says, and Maggie selects Hot Cinnamon Sunset. Belinda passes her a heavy handcrafted mug to steep it in.
They sit at the table waiting for the water to boil, making small talk until the kettle lets out a shrill whistle. Belinda jumps up to tend to it and then brings the kettle over to fill both of their mugs. The scent of cinnamon fills the air.
“Is this your favorite time of night—when the guests are in their rooms and you have the place to yourself?” Maggie asks, wrapping her hands around the hot mug.
“No, not at all. I love having people around. But tonight, I can’t seem to quiet my mind, either.”
“Well, I don’t mean to be presumptuous, but I’m happy to listen.”
Belinda shakes her head. “I’ve talked enough tonight,” she says. “I want to hear more aboutyou. What do you do in the city?”
Maggie tells her about Denim, and Elaine Berger—that Elaine is from the area and is the one who told her about the retreat. They talk about retail, and a little more about Belinda’s experience owning a knit shop.
“Where do you buy your yarn in the city?” Belinda asks.
“I mostly order it online. My neighborhood knitting shop closed a few years ago.”
“Oh, that’s a shame. So much is lost when you can’t buy in person.”
“I know. I really miss it. Sometimes I go to one in SoHo, a place on Mercer Street. But it’s expensive.” And more, it fell short of the things she loved most about her old knit shop. There’d been a community at Hattie’s Knits. Hattie herself offered Maggie a job once. It had been tempting, but she could never leave Elaine. When she declined the knit shop offer, she accepted the probability that she’d be working at Denim until the day Elaine closed it down. A day she hopes never comes.
“I haven’t seen a yarn store in town,” Maggie says. “Do you have one?”
Belinda shakes her head. “We used to. Closed a few years ago. I miss it. During retreats, I used to take everyone there for a little field trip.” She shrugs. “Things change. We adapt. That’s why I started hosting my own yarn pop-up.”
Things change. We adapt.
Maggie isn’t ready for things to change. She doesn’t want to adapt. But she has to face the fact that her twenty-three-year-old daughter is going to get married. And nothing will ever be the same.
This knitting retreat weekend is their last hurrah. What was she thinking making plans with that guy Aidan? Time is precious. She’s not going to waste a minute of it. Hopefully, by morning, he’ll change his mind or forget about it.
She certainly plans to.
Saturday
New Hope Knitting Retreat: Day 2
Breakfast:8 a.m.–9:30 p.m. at Bucks Tavern
Course Offerings:Intro to Crochet; Intro to Knitting; Tunisian crochet; Estonian Lace; Beginner’s Brioche; Repairing Holes in Your Knitwear; Crochet: Cables & Post Stitches
Evening Activity:5 p.m. Sip & Stitch in The Purl
Chapter Eighteen
Breakfast at the tavern is served buffet style, on long wooden tables decorated with pumpkins and gourds and set with carafes of steaming coffee. Piper’s first decision of the day is choosing between farm-fresh scrambled eggs or steel-cut oats topped with dried cranberries and brown sugar.
Beside her, Maggie pours maple syrup over pumpkin bread French toast and fills two mugs with coffee. Together, they find a table near the windows. The only other knitters in the room are Kalli and Laurel, who briefly look up from their conversation to give them a wave. The rest of the restaurant seem to be a mix of tourists and locals. Two guys from the bachelor party walk in, one she recognizes as Cole’s cousin. She thinks about her conversation with Cole in the lobby, and she’s still resolved to be more appreciate of her mother today.
She finds the workshop schedule on her phone and turns her screen to Maggie. “So... which of these are we registered for?” Maggie had told her the Saturday agenda yesterday when she wasn’t paying attention.
“Piper, I just have one last thing to say on the topic of Ethan. Try not to overthink things. I’m certain you don’t have anything to worry about.”
“Mom,” Piper says, reaching across the table and touchingthe back of her hand. “I’m not going to let this ruin our weekend.” She turns to the course listing on her phone and says, “I think I want to do the Shetland Hap workshop.”
She looks up and finds a man approaching the table. She doesn’t recognize him, but he’s looking at Maggie as if he knows her. He’s tall with auburn hair and broad shoulders and thick brows. He’s handsome.
“Good morning, Maggie,” he says, his deep voice accented in a local Pennsylvania dialect she’s starting to recognize. Cole speaks the same way. “I hope you’re still up for the challenge.”
