The Knitting Diaries: The Twenty-First Wish / Coming Unravelled / Return to Summer Island

In fact, she knew it was.

Eight

April 27

I saw Mom and Tim kissing this afternoon! They didn’t know I wasn’t really asleep. They kissed real hard and I was hoping maybe they might want to get married for real. April and I could be their wedding planners! But then something happened, only I don’t know what because Mom and Tim both got quiet. I tried to listen, but I couldn’t understand what they were talking about.

When we got home, Mom said she’s going to knit something for a bride named Courtney, who’s marrying the son of her friend Bethanne. Mom’s going to talk to Lydia, and I want to come along. I want to knit something for a bride, too, except I want Mom to be the bride, just like April and I planned.

When Anne Marie and Ellen returned from Lake Wisdom, there was a message on her home phone, which had been installed Tuesday, and on her cell. A message from Mel.

Anne Marie listened to both with more than a twinge of guilt. While she’d been necking like a teenager with Tim in his car, Mel, the man she was dating, had tried to reach her.

She waited until Ellen was down for the night before she called him back. “Hi,” she said. She knew it sounded tentative—and guilty. She had to resist the urge to apologize for kissing Tim.

Mel instantly picked up on her agitation. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yes … So what’s up?”

“Actually, I phoned for two reasons,” he said.

“Oh?” She paced the kitchen as she held the phone against her ear.

“First, to apologize for the other night. I overreacted with Tim.”

“It’s all right, really,” she rushed to tell him. Even discussing Tim casually was dangerous. “I understand. It was unfortunate, but it’s over and best forgotten.”

“I guess I’m jealous,” Mel continued, oblivious to everything she’d said. “There were a dozen better ways to handle the situation. I behaved badly. I hope you’ll excuse my little temper tantrum.”

“Mel, it’s over,” she said again. “Forgotten.” Now, if she could forget Tim’s kisses just as easily.

“You’re far more forgiving and generous than I deserve.”

If he didn’t stop soon, she was going to burst into tears and confess that she’d spent the afternoon with Tim and had succumbed to his charms, of which there were many.

“Secondly, I called to remind you about Friday night.”

“Friday?” Her memory had gone completely blank—no doubt understandable in the current situation. She stopped pacing, frowning as she tried to remember.

“We have tickets to see Jersey Boys.”

“Oh, right!” Anne Marie had been ecstatic at the opportunity. Her husband, Robert, had loved the Four Seasons, and she knew many of their songs by heart.