Page 45 of The Holiday Grump
Lola waved her hand. “It’s me! Last time, Ida told us you can crochet practically anything, so I looked up this?—”
“Lobster trap?” Astrid rotated the paper, trying to make sense of it.
“I think it’s a vagina, Astrid,” Eileen said.
“Avulva,” Lola clarified. “I found the instructions online.”
Ida frowned at the page. “This isn’t what I’d usually?—”
“But I knew you’d be able to pick it up on the fly and help us out if needed,” Felicity said firmly. “We’ve done so many flowers already. All those lilies for that fundraiser. This is not that different.”
Ida gave her a dirty look. “You never finished a single flower.”
Felicity shrugged. “I’m more of an administrator.”
“And how is this keeping things above board for your young daughter?” Ida demanded, her voice a low hiss as if they were having this unseemly conversation far from Kailee’s ears, which were about two feet away.
Kailee huffed. “It’s a body part! Relax.”
Felicity glanced at her daughter, simultaneously proud and surprised. “Also, Lola has agreed to buy any vulvas we create for her shop. The money goes toward our weekly yarn purchases and Ida’s bus tickets for her yarn shopping trips, which we happily subsidize. If anyone has a problem with that…” She looked around the table, pausing at Ida.
“I do think it’s nice we have good quality yarn and a lovely selection of colors,” Ida said, pink blotches on her cheeks.
I studied the printout, feeling nervous. “Ida showed methe basics earlier, but I haven’t practiced, and this looks complicated.”
“Don’t worry, dear! I’ll show you!” Ida scooted closer, looking as pleased as she’d been on the bus.
A collective sigh passed through the room, and everyone settled into choosing yarn colors and reading the instruction sheets, swiping the occasional cookie off the plate.
I chose the vulva pattern. It was a lot smaller than the Santa hat and seemed more achievable.
I made sure Kailee, who sat on my other side, saw everything we did. She eventually took the hook and some yarn and copied my movements to get started. “By the way, I’m not taking this home with me.”
Eileen turned to Astrid. “How’s Wren?”
“Still single.” Astrid sighed.
“Don’t worry! I was praying to St. Anne. She’s the patron saint of single ladies,” Eileen said reassuringly.
“Why are you praying to the saints? You’re not Catholic,” Felicity asked.
Eileen huffed. “Pastor Jeffrey said I should stop bringing up the single people in town. I was trying to pray for everyone.”
“You were writing their names on the prayer cards and pairing them up on the bulletin board,” Ida pointed out.
I exchanged a glance with Kailee, who suppressed a giggle. She seemed more relaxed now.
We kept working on our crafts, and after a while, the group split into smaller conversations, filling the room with a comforting cacophony of laughter and chatter. I could tell that the oldest—Eileen, Ida, and Astrid—went back decades and had about 200 mutual friends.
Felicity got into a deep conversation with Erica while Lola tried to coax more out of Kailee.
I’d never seen anyone’s hands move as fast as Ida’s. While the rest of us completed a few rows, she finished her first Santa hat, and Felicity decided it was time for the book club portion of the evening.
“First of all… how many of you actually read the book?”
Erica, Eileen, and Lola raised their hands.
Felicity gave them a guilty smile. “I admit, I got halfway. It’s been a busy week.”
