My sister and I are sharing the responsibility of looking after Mom. Her health is declining rapidly and I suspect we won’t have her with us much longer. That makes each day we have her all the more precious. She’s still lonely without Dad, still a bit lost.

Both Margaret and I work hard at keeping her busy. We make sure she has lots of small things to look forward to each week—a visit, an outing, shopping, a new book. Anything that we know will bring her joy.

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Mom is knitting more and Margaret’s been picking her up on Friday afternoons so she can join the other women who do charity knitting. She enjoys these occasions and feels part of the knitting community. My mother is a fast knitter and she’s contributed enough patches to make an entire blanket for Warm Up America, plus another for the Linus Project. I think Dad would be very pleased to see the three of us working together, knitting.

I’ve been so caught up in my thoughts that Margaret’s standing directly in front of me before I notice her. “I’m leaving to pick up Mom,” she announces.

“Great.” I lower my feet. I’m generally not this tired on a Friday morning, but Brad, Cody and I were at a Mariners’ playoff game last night and it went into extra innings. I didn’t get to bed until after midnight and had to be up early to meet with a yarn sales rep. Brad and Cody, my two sweethearts, are real baseball fans and I’ve learned to love the game, so it wasn’t any sacrifice to be out so late.

Soon after Margaret’s departure, Elise comes into the shop, carrying her knitting. The changes in Elise since she remarried Maverick would make anyone a believer in marriage! She’s so much more relaxed now and genuinely happy.

I’ve pretty much figured out that Maverick was our fairy godfather, although I’ve never asked her directly and she hasn’t volunteered the information.

“Where’s Maverick?” I ask. He almost always accompanies Elise on Fridays. I’ve purchased a special chair for him, so he can read while the rest of us knit and talk. Maverick’s face might be hidden behind a book, but he’s listening. He always was a good listener, or so Elise tells me. Each one of us has more or less adopted Maverick. I know his condition is stable, and although we’re all pleased by that, we worry, too. His immune system has been compromised by the treatments. But Elise is taking good care of him. Those two are so happy together, so accepting of each other. It almost seems that love is what they’re living on now.

“He’s parking the car,” Elise says. “He’ll be along shortly.”

“How is he?” I ask.

“Doing really well.” From the look in her eyes I know she’s telling the truth, and I’m relieved. “Bethanne’s here, too, and I saw Jacqueline and Carol over at the French Café, chatting with Alix. I imagine they won’t be long.”

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“Great.”

A small package had arrived from Courtney earlier in the week, with several patches for the Warm Up America blanket we’re currently working on. She has a whole group of girls in her dorm knitting now. Inside was a long letter that I plan to read to the entire group.

According to Bethanne, Courtney keeps in touch with Annie and Andrew. It’ll be interesting to see if Courtney and Andrew can maintain a long-distance relationship. I know Bethanne has encouraged both of them to date others and I believe they do. Above all, they’re good friends; I hope they stay friends.

Speaking of Bethanne, I don’t see her as often as I’d like. We’re all so proud of her. And not just because of her success with the business, either. Let me add that she’s planning Brad’s and my wedding, and I wouldn’t trust that to anyone else.

No, the real reason for my pride in her is the way she’s virtually reinvented herself, the way she’s found confidence, in herself and in others. As I remember it, she didn’t even sign up for the class on her own. Her daughter made the phone call on her behalf.

And I feel that we in the class—but especially Elise—can take some of the credit for encouraging that transformation.

The bell rings above the door and Brad strolls into the shop. We see each other nearly every day now that the date for the wedding’s been set. Alix has volunteered to bake the cake and Jacqueline insists we have the reception at the country club, but Bethanne is the one organizing it all. Margaret has agreed to be my matron of honor, and I have six bridesmaids. Six! It wasn’t hard to decide who I wanted to stand up with me—my dearest friends. My knitting friends.

“Hello, gorgeous,” Brad greets me, wheeling his cart with an expert hand. “How are you this beautiful afternoon?”

I smile back. Fine, I tell him. Better than fine. Happy and very much in love with him and with life in the shop on Blossom Street.

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