Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 77490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
“Knitting can be tricky at first, but if you stick with it, it’s so rewarding. You can create things for yourself, your family, and your household.” Here, I pass around a hat, a scarf, and a set of dishcloths. “You can also knit hats and blankets for people in need, and blankets for newborns in hospitals.” The soft variegated pastel square I brought has the women oohing at its preciousness, as it always does.
After the attendees take a short break for tea or coffee and cookies, I teach them another stitch, and then the class is over. The sessions are intentionally short for beginner workshops, so no one gets overwhelmed.
I’m teaching a granny square crochet class in the afternoon, but first, it’s time for my break. I packed a sandwich for my lunch, as I usually do, and I sit at the small table in the kitchen to eat. To keep the store covered, we all stagger our breaks, so I’m alone, and the temptation to reach out to Brax proves overwhelming.
I send off a quick text. “Thanks again for dinner. I had such a good time.”
He said he was working today, and I picture him at his post near the entrance of Beasts Ink. Sometimes, he has spare time to study while he’s on duty; other times, crowds of curious onlookers keep him busy, so I’m not surprised when I don’t hear back from him right away.
Digging into my bag of pretzels, I open a matching game on my phone and try to keep my mind occupied.
When an alert appears on my screen, I’m sure it’s Brax, but it’s from Erik instead. “I’m looking forward to tonight. Is 6:30 still good?”
Here, all alone, my cheeks still heat. Erik texted me last night, after I’d gotten home, and said he hoped dinner had gone well, and that he’d like to take me out tonight. Of course, I said yes, my heart aflutter at the thought of officially going from friends to more with him.
How is it possible that I’m dating two different men, two nights in a row? I’ve gone from famine to feast.
Even though I have privacy in the kitchen, something feels wild and reckless about being in contact with the men while I’m here under the Todds’ roof. Even though it feels right when I’m with them, and I know they’re good men, I can’t shake the idea that I’m doing something wrong.
As I’m typing a response to Erik, there’s a knock on the frame of the open door, and I’m so startled that I nearly drop my phone.
“There you are, Ava.”
“Oh, hi, Mom. I didn’t know you were coming.” I hope I don’t sound as guilty as I feel.
As a kid living in my parents’ house, I never broke the rules. It’s very strange, and very uncomfortable, to feel like I’ve been caught misbehaving when I’m in my mid-twenties.
“Are you okay, dear? You look flushed.”
After hastily locking my screen, I tuck my phone into my pocket. “I’m fine, Mom. What are you doing here?”
She eyes the items in front of me on the table. “Make sure you’re drinking enough water, Ava.”
“I will.”
As I sit there squirming, my mother looks around the kitchen as though she’s assessing it. “I was nearby and thought I’d stop in rather than calling you,” she says finally. “Your brother’s coming over for dinner tonight.”
Though this is all she says, I understand very clearly what she’s not saying. Whenever my brother and his fiancée go there for dinner, I’m expected to come, too. Typically, that’s not a problem.
“Oh. I … I can’t make it tonight.” I hold my breath after squeaking this out.
She turns abruptly back toward me. “Why not?”
“I … I have plans with Lexy. She’s been really busy lately, so I can’t ask her to reschedule.”
My palms are sweaty and I’ve lost all appetite for the rest of my lunch. I hate lying, especially to my mother, but I don’t see another option.
Mom wouldn’t approve if she knew I was still friends with Erik, so there’s no way I’m mentioning that we’re going on a date. She doesn’t even know that he moved into my apartment building, but I considered that a lie by omission.
Now, I’m full-on lying to her about where I’ll be tonight.
“With Lexy …” She says this distractedly, and my stomach jumps. There’s so much she doesn’t know about Lexy, either, and if she ever finds out my friend is living in sin with three men, I’ll be forbidden from associating with her.
When did my life become so full of deceit?
A little voice in my head says, If their rules weren’t so unreasonable, you wouldn’t have to lie. It’s true, but it doesn’t stop me from feeling guilty.
Aloud I say, “Yes, with Lexy, sorry. I’ll be there next time.”